The Clockwork Hostage
by letitbexo
Summary: A story through Pete's eyes and how his friendship with Alex will soon blow the world with ablaze. FINISHED 9/12/2012.
1. Chapter 1

"_Justice is always violent to the party offending, for every man is innocent in his own eyes." – Daniel Defoe_

_Chapter 1_

My name is Pete. That's P-E-T-E, Pete. I am fifteen years old, about five foot and eight inches tall, owning a skinny built body and eyes too tired to keep open during the day, after I've been out late last night with my bowler and top hat wearing friends. I must bitterly admit to you, readers, about what I've been doing with my humble young life, and doing all the things that my mother has always warned me to never do; hanging out with violent machines that dare call themselves "humans", drinking drug-laced milk that they warned us all about in my school, and spitting between the eyes of homeless men once my friends and I are done inflicting the all powerful _ultra-violence._

I used to be quite the bright-eyed and bushy tailed little boy; used to be in the Boys' Scout team, go to church every Sunday morning with my dear mum, and helping the elderly cross the street with the help of my hand. I was the perfect prototype of what societies has always wanted in a young boy but have lost it in the past few decades. Since I blossomed into the tender age of fourteen, I was already rewarded with my first job working at this bakery shop about a few streets away from my home. It paid very little, but at that young age, any little money is actually a whole lot of money to an adolescent boy. It kept me happy to earn the money so that I can go on and buy myself a couple of outfits, since my mum is on welfare and couldn't work due to her broken back.

You're probably wondering how I came to meet with Alex, Georgie, and Dim. Well, it all started on a cold, dark Fall's night, September to be exact. My boss had to go home to his five year old daughter's birthday party early, so he gave me the keys and permission to look over the shop for the rest of my evening shift. I did everything well that evening, putting all the things away, making sure the dishes are done and dried, and sweeping the floors till it's all dust-free. Right when the sun has finally gone down to hide beyond the mountains the city's buildings, I place the broom back to its original place, and took off my apron to hang it up in the closet. That's when I hear the front door opening and the bell ringing.

"Store's closed." I simply said without even turning around.

_Thwack!_

I jump and flip myself around to come face to face with my soon to be new droogs. There standing in front of me, stands the tall and lanky Georgie, gripping his baseball bat with a crooked ugly grin, and standing next to him is this overweight boy who looks like an ape. What with his "huh huh huh" laughter coming out of his fat face, and people would surely mistaken him for an ape at least once or twice in his life. Poor bugger. Finally smacked in between the two of them, stands a shorter but much more dangerous looking fellow, his left eye being like decorated with false lashes and wearing a bowler hat to complete his sinister appearance. He smirks arrogantly at me before taking a few steps towards me, and I absentmindedly take one back in fear. He laughs, but it was the sort of laugh that I've never heard before; cold and bitter and almost synthetic in nature, which brings all the little hairs in the back of my neck standing right up.

"Welly welly welly welly well! It appears to me that little Pete doesn't remember who I am!" The short man says, giving me another baleful smile before taking another set of steps towards me. I slowly keep backing up before a cruel twist of fate set me up to bump my back against the glass display case, and Alex's grin grew wider and wider the more closer he comes towards me. I stood very still, holding my breath as he finally plants himself about an inch away from me, and I shut my eyes with a million prayers whiplashing all across my head to God or whoever is up there to help me live for tonight. But most importantly, I pray to God that he helps my mum to continue on with living if I end up dead tonight, bless her old soul.

"Open those glazzies, brother! I'm not going to hurt you tonight. You're of no use of entertainment for me this nochy," I hear this man saying with an air of carelessness, and I open my eyes to find him looking at me with a more softer and less threatening expression on his face, "I for one just can't believe that you don't recognize me, brother."

I try to recognize him underneath his bowler hat and his false lashes, but so far I can't. People of the night are so different from the people of the day. He gave me no permission to think anymore, however, for he took off his bowler hat and looks downward to expertly remove his lashes out from his left eye before looking up at me. It took me just a second or two before I take in a sharp breath with wide eyes.

"Alex? Is that you?"

He smiles, showing his bright white teeth at me, "Yes, little brother, it is I, Alex Delarge."

"… You're from my school. But I don't understand… Why are you—who are those two?" I look from behind him to see the tall lanky fellow messing around with the cabinets and the fat one munching on a piece of cake hungrily. Alex didn't even turned around behind to see what I'm seeing, he just smirks before taking a step back to turn around and whack his cane against the wooden floors audibly to catch his friend's attention. They look up before coming up in front of us and Alex casually turns to me before surprising me with draping his arm around my neck like a dear friend would do.

"Droogs, meet Pete! He's from my skolliwoll, you see! Such a nice young lad, this one is!" He cackles at my surprised expression before letting his arm drop down so that it can wrap around my shoulders instead of my neck, "Pete, these are my droogs, Georgie-Boy and Dim."

I can feel my face sizzling in embarrassment as Georgie and Dim laughs at me, and I want to more than anything than to just flee from this place and to just go home before it gets too dark. Unfortunately for me, it is almost about to be 7 o'clock, which is the hour where all the gangs comes sneaking out to do their nightly businesses, so I can assure you that I am very unlucky tonight.

"… P-please let me be. I must go home, to nurse my mum. She's very ill, you see," I speak in apparent nervousness, avoiding all of their penetrating eyes, "Just let me be. I won't speak to the cops about you three. Just let me go…"

"Oh, you're breaking my heart with your whimpering, brother," Alex says with his voice dripping in sarcasm, "Nevermind that. We'll let you be if you can promise to join our brotherly shaika. I think you'd make a wonderful addition, brother."

I shift my eyes towards his wicked face, "You're not serious, are you?"

"I am being very serious, brother," He smirks before expertly pops his cane open with just his thumb, revealing to me-in pure shock and fear-his shiny small knife. I gasp right in the second when he places the sharp side of the knife right on top of my throat, "Or must I use physical force to show you just how serious I am?"

My eyes glances at the two other men, who's currently watching me with much excitement, as if desperately wanting Alex to cut me open like an animal for their desire of violence. Time stood still for me, the world spins all around my head, and the inside of my mouth and throat suddenly went desert dry. I gulp, feeling no saliva of course, and my protruding throat grazes against the sharp knife. Why me?

"Do we have a deal, brother?" I hear Alex say, "Will you join us for all the long days that will come?"

"What happens if I don't?" I dare ask, my eyes looking straight into the blue-eyed monster next to me, "What then?"

His eyes widen a little and so does his grin, and surprisingly he lets the knife down and away from my throat. I sigh in relief, holding my throat with my hand, all the sweet saliva coming back to my throat and mouth. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself down, when I hear a loud shriek. I open my eyes with a surprising jump, and I see Dim hitting the floor with his hands over his bloody chest, with Georgie kneeling over him and placing his own hand to stop the bleeding as well. I turn to Alex and watch him as he watches Dim with a sick, twisted expression on his face. I can't believe he's taking in pleasure of torturing his friends like that! How is that even humanly possible?

He turns to me and I yelp a little when he places the knife over my throat again, his other arm wrapping around my mid-section so that I won't get away from him this time, "Now do you see, Pete? Now do you see what would happen if you don't join?"

I look at him before looking at Dim, whose bawling his eyes out like a child while Georgie comforts him like an older brother would. My heart swells up in sympathy as I watch these two; these two must have been forced to be with Alex as well. He might have done the same exact thing to them as he is doing to me now… using brute force, verbal abuse, and violence to get what he wants.

Alex threateningly pushes the knife into my throat, impatient with me, and I couldn't do anything but sigh, "Alright. Alright… I'll do it. I'll join you all."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

I put on my wool coat and out I go with the three stooges, my throat still being surrendered against Alex's knife and my arms being held behind my back with the help of him and Dim. The cold September wind takes a feverish bite against my cheeks and the tip of my nose, and I quickly lock the front glass door of the bakery shop before Alex shove me to walk on ahead towards the street, his hot breath hitting against the side of my neck. Despite this situation, I can't help but feel just a bit safe with all of them surrounding me simply because I am now a part of them, a beating heart inside of a violent group of machines, and they won't let any other gang come and take me away. At least tonight, I can breathe a little easier. Tonight could just be my lucky night.

So we travel closely together in a pack of four until we reached a very nice, small suburban area, nothing too rich or prestigious, but it almost took the rest of the boys by an offensive surprise. The houses are all surrounded by black metal fences, as if telling anybody that's not from the suburbs, _"Get out, you filth. You don't belong here."_

"Nice mesto you got 'ere, brother!" Alex quips, pressing the knife against my throat just little bit more, "All snuggly and woogly… You're not too far from me, really. You ought to invite me over for some chai sometime!"

Dim and Georgie snigger at his sarcastic jabs at me, but I couldn't do anything but stay silent. Any wrong words or actions could cost my throat to explode in a violent, red frenzy.

We walk silently together until we reach this small, two story house, the smallest house in the entire suburban area. It's just nice enough for my mum and I to enjoy a safe place to be, yet not so expensive that the state government wouldn't want to help pay for until she's ready to get straight back to work. We've been living in that house for ten years now, and oh the lovely memories that are held in that place is enough to bring tears into my fourteen year old eyes. The Christmases together, the times when my dad would laugh out loud at all the British comedy shows (Who just about died of a heart attack when I was eight years old.), and all of my life lessons being learned there in the privacy of my room. Dim and Georgie stand there, looking at Alex as he looks at me with a grin, and I turn my bluish-gray eyes at him curiously.

"This is it… Um, you could let go of me now," I grunt, trying to slowly pull my arm away from Alex's death grip, but he wouldn't have any of it. He only gripped it tighter before leaning dangerously close to the side of my face.

"You promise you'll be a part of us, brother?" Alex asks me in a low voice, "You promise you won't ignore us or report us to the rozzes? You promise you'll meet me in the skolliwoll's courtyard every day after the hours are over so that we can… filly eegras together?"

"I promise. I do." I reply, my eyes widening at him for added effects. He stands still there, staring straight into the side of my eyes with a wicked grin, and my stomach does a twist, waiting for all the bad things to happen… But he finally steps back and lets go of my arm before he nods at Dim to let go of me as well, and he does so. I slowly turn around to watch them three as they looked back at me with smiles, and time stood still for all of us. I can imagine our lives being magically intersected right this minute, our destinies to be together as a gang morphing into one amazing destiny, like energy and stardust being surrounded us all in an explosion of blue and gray orbs of light… And then, like a small flicker of flame, it was gone.

"_Pete? Is that you?"_

I take in a sharp breath, "That's my mother…"

Alex turns his head at his two friends and nods his head, commanding them without a word to leave right this second. They scampered off, and I watch them as they do, their combat boots hitting hard against the streets. I stare after the back of their white shirts being casted into a bright yellow light as they both run under a street lamp, one after another. I then turn my eyes to look at Alex, and he looks back with a gentle yet still frightening smile, and my eyes widen at him, as if I were telling him, _"Well? What are you waiting for, run!"_

But he doesn't. He just stands there. My heart begins to pick up the pace as I can hear my mum's voice calling out my name from my house behind me, and I widen my eyes even more at him. He only widens his eyes at me back, before laughing underneath his throat at me. Is this supposed to be a joke? If my mom catches him...!

I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but right there, my readers, right there when I can hear the doorknob from my house behind me turning and the door hinges creaking horribly as it opens a little bit… Alex takes off his hat before slapping it on top of my head, leaving me feeling bewildered beyond imagination. Quickly he bends down a little to give me a quick brotherly peck at my forehead before he rushes down the street, his head turning to smirk at me before he continues on running away.

"_Pete! You're finally here! I was so worried about you!"_ I can hear the door finally opening all the way, and I turn around to see my mum in her old reliable wheelchair, her face lined with concern. I smile awkwardly at her, opening the white wooden fence in front of me before walking onto the small stone path that leads to the tiny porch of the house.

Maybe tonight really _is_ my lucky night.

* * *

><p>The next day after the school hours are over, I got myself comfortable and sit in this picnic table in the courtyard just like Alex told me to do last night. I open up this book that I got from the school's library, this book titled "Catcher in The Rye", and I begin to read the hard covered book, peacefully at my own pace. The tree branches and leaves above me created a shattered pattern of light and shade all over the pages, and the sound of the gentle winds and birds chirping brings upon a sense of serenity in me, and I couldn't help but smile just a little bit.<p>

The school is in chatter about all the illegal gang activities that are being held during night time and every single student are out trying to find out who's in these gangs and whether or not they should be punished for it. For some reason, the female student body likes to romanticize about this ordeal, talking about how handsome these violent young hoodlums must be, and would talk in length on how they would like to be ravished by one of them if they ever had the opportunity. The male student body, on the other hand, are out investigating over who really is a gang member and if they should try and see if they can come along with them for bowling nights and what not. Violence apparently makes you very popular around here… They don't appreciate the quiet, intellectual types like your author. Introverted as I may be, it wouldn't help to be just a little bit popular. Just a little bit…

"Hi hi hi there!"

I look up from my trance to see a pair of stone cold blue eyes and a wicked smile staring downward at me. For some strange reason, my throat closes up and dries up on its own, and my stomach does a flip and a funny twist inside of me. He wastes no time to wait for me to respond, however, and just lifts his leg to place it in the gap between the picnic table and seat so that he can sit down and bring his other leg inside of it as well. He clasps his hands together on the table in front of me, his elbows resting on it as well, and he studies me with an evil little smile, and my throat responds by all of this by contracting itself even further. Even my lips are starting to feel too dry for its own good.

"How art thou, my little brother? You seem very surprised to viddy me… Cat got your yahzick, perhaps?" He sniggers, my face burning a hot reddish tone, "Are you ready for your first day?"

I absentmindedly nod my head. What is happening to me? Why am I agreeing to this? Why can't I just report him and his friends to the police?

"Real dobby, real dobby! Well first, I'm going to shvat you out for a little shopping. Don't worry about paying; Uncle Alex got that problem handled. He's a bugatty lad, you see!" He says, oddly fixated by the sight of my throat, "Then we'll swing by Georgie's mesto for a malenky tomtick of training."

"_Training?_" I managed to squeak out of my dried up voice. He nods his head at me, ignoring my odd squealing voice. Then he gives me another one of his infamous evil grin before standing up, turning a little to the side to lift his leg over his seat to get out of the picnic table seating area, and he turns to me and whistles at me… as if I'm his dog about to be potty trained, and him being my master and leader.

I stand up from my seat and go around the table to go where he's standing at, and he takes off his brown leather messenger bag before shoving it rudely into my arms, "Carry this, would you?"

I grunt at the shove, but never the less I place the leather straps around my shoulder so that I'm carrying both that and my school book bag. I suddenly feel very tired and weak; how much shit is this guy carrying around?

"Right, then! Follow me and I'll get you where you need to be, brother!" He announces broadly at me, giving me a wide smile before he walks past me, whistling a little tune to himself as I follow right behind him.

* * *

><p>We ended up in this clothing boutique for gentlemen. They have so many hats, gloves, shirts, pants, all what you can find for "Dressing Up The Modern Gentleman", or so the poster on the front of the store reads. It's a bit of a small place, but never the less impressive for its aristocratic-like atmosphere and for its rich, upper class tastes in fashion. The walls are painted a deep burgundy color, and the smell soothes me immediately upon entering the place with Alex; the smell of cherry cigars.<p>

Alex shoves me (Rudely again!) into this small dressing room and closes the giant curtains in front of me, before I hear him calling out to me, "I'll get you your veshches, Pete, and you'll try them on. I have a real dobby feeling I know what your sizes are!"

Oh, does he now? I back up before the back of my knees hits something behind me, and I turn my head over my shoulder to see it's a small leather chair to sit in. I take off my book bag and Alex's messenger bag and let them casually retreat to the dark cherry wood floors before sitting down in said leather chair, closing my eyes and trying to calm myself down.

'_Okay… I'm here because Alex brought me here. I waited in the courtyard back there in school because Alex told me to do so last night while we were walking back to my home. I did all of this because if I don't, he'll cut my throat open and do God knows what else… He'll probably kill my mother as well…' _I pinch the bridge of my nose frustratingly, _'But then, why can't I just report him to the police? Why can't I just do it? Why am I so afraid?'_

I open my steel blue eyes; but then, if I did report him and his friends to the police, no doubt they probably have connections from other towns that I've not heard of before… Other secret gangs that Alex probably orders around like a herd of prostitutes, Alex being their great big bad Pimp and all... So I guess I'm just stuck here…

The curtains suddenly ripped open and I see Alex come in with a few clothing articles draped over his arm, his erect posture and wavy hair the color of honey literally took me by surprise. He looks down at me and gives me a flickering smile, and I can feel my face burning a crimson color. At the risk of sounding a touch too campy to my dear readers, I do find Alex to be a handsome young man. He is the essence of fire and brimstone, always so violent and painful to those he touches, but still remains so very attractive to look at from a distant.

I wake up from my trance when Alex bursts into a silvery laughter, and he says, "I can't blame you dribbling over a luscious malchick such as myself. Now put on these platties and come on out when you're ready."

Before I could even react, he tosses the clothes at me and steps back out to close the curtains on me once more. I look down to study all the new clothes out in front of me; a pair of simple white cargo pants, a dress shirt in the same pure shade, suspenders, again, in the same white shade, and-what's this?

I pull out this small black thing out of the meshed pile on my lap and it appears to me to be a black beret hat. I stare at it, dumfounded. What exactly is Alex trying to pull here? Was all of this just a joke? Some kind of sick prank all along? What am I, his dress up doll?

It doesn't end there, readers, because soon I pull out an off-white colored codpiece out of the pile. I can feel my jaw dropping to the floor. Oh perfect! Just what I needed, a piece of article to accentuate my manhood even further. I don't think I've ever blushed this deeply and angrily before, but here I am. But, what else am I to do? If I run from out of there, everything will soon come down hard on me and I will be meeting into a lot of trouble with Alex and his gangs. So, I reluctantly put everything on, raging tears brimming in my eyes.

I stand there, with everything on, and I can hear and feel my heart beating out of my chest. I take in a quivering breath before I walk out of the curtain, where I can see Alex-in his uncharacteristically normal clothing consisting of a beige turtleneck, black slacks and oxford shoes-sitting and reading some high-end magazine just like a simple gentleman would do. I seem to have stood there staring at him like an idiot forever, because the next thing I knew, he is right in front of me, studying my entire outfit with a pleased smirk.

"Wonderful… You look way better than I hoped!" He says, laying his hands on top of my shoulders before looking behind me and from my sides, "The beret adds a very cute touch."

Cute. That's all I am to him… Just a cute poodle dog to prance around with and show off to the entire town.

"Okay, I'm going to go back in there," I say, turning my head to look at the long curtains that leads to the so called "dressing room", when really it's only a small space, "And I'll give you all of… this… back to you."

"Righty right!" Alex replies, tightening his grip on my shoulders almost painfully before giving me an evil smile, "You really do look good… _Peter_."

I choose to ignore my formal name that he dared let it slip out from between his lips before I turned around to go back to the dressing room.

* * *

><p>"Um," I flustered, hopelessly holding onto my book bag, the messenger bag and the shopping bag filled with my new white outfit as Alex and I walked onto the streets of downtown, "Alex?"<p>

"Yes, my little droogie!" Alex answered in that booming, arrogant tone of voice, "What hast thou have in mind?"

I finally catch up with him and walk by his side, "U-um, we haven't… brought any shoes for me. I mean, isn't that what makes a complete outfit… shoes?"

He sniggers, surprising me by wrapping his arm around my thin shoulders, "Worry not, my little brother! Once we reach Georgie's place, him and Dim will help you finalize your new look immediately. You'll just have to trust me, that's all!"

…_Trust._

We walk on together in silence before we stop in front of this rundown apartment complex, and we travel on inside. The entire place smells of strong cigarette smoke and liquor, and I am just about ready to throw up all over myself, but of course that would make my _Master _terribly angry, so I hold everything in. We walk into the elevator and wait, completely in painful silence, and more than anything right now, readers… I just want to go home, to see my mum and hold her in my arms.

Finally, the elevator makes a ringing noise before the door slides open for Alex and I to walk out of there, and we finally reach an apartment door, with the number "69" on the front of the dark green door. Oh, it's _really _not what I think it is, isn't it?

Alex pushes the small black door bell button that rests right under the 69 gold plated numbers, and I wait in silent pain, my shoulders ready to be ripped out of my body from carrying so many bags. Thankfully, in about five seconds after Alex rings the door, Georgie opens the door. Not a word is said between the two friends, however, Georgie just steps aside and opens the door further to let us both in. I just want to let all of the bags fall down and scream, but I know I can't do nor say anything until Alex instructs me to.

Inside, I find myself staring at all the vulgar shaped furniture and paintings of various human genitals and female breasts plastered all over Georgie's walls, and I try my best not to appear uncomfortable by all of this. The walls are painted a dark green, just like his door, and his black and white checkered floors looked just awful paired with it. I say nothing about it though, and my eyes finally land on the great big ape, Dim, who's sitting in one of the vulgar shaped chair, reading today's newspapers.

Alex turns to me and Georgie crosses his arms as he looks at me as well, and my eyes pleaded Alex for me to at least sit down and rest. Alex nods at the chair next to me, and I sigh before sitting down, carefully laying down all the bags onto the black and white floors in front of me. I rub one of my shoulders with my hand, closing my eyes and trying to forget that I'm here in this horrible place and time, before I can hear Dim laying down the papers down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Georgie, could you please make some hot chai for all of us? And Dim, get Pete his new boots and his make-up kit." I can hear Alex commanding those two in that gentlemanly tone of voice, and I open my eyes to see Georgie going into the next room to I'm assuming his kitchen, and Dim standing up to head over to Georgie's bedroom in the next room from the other side of the living room. I looked up at Alex as he sits on another chair next to me, before he ruffles up my dirty blond hair like an older brother would normally do.

"Make-up kit?" I implore quietly, rubbing my other shoulder. Alex didn't answer me, but he just smiles darkly at the space in front of us.

Oh, brother… more dressing up. Why can't he just cut my throat open wide instead?


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

The entire afternoon and the brink of evening, my three new 'droogs' or so I have to call them, all messed around with me and getting me to hit them with my own fists and weapon. That weapon being an Irish walking stick, very nice and sturdy. They would make weird animal noises at me and smack at my head, just to anger me and try to get me to hit them back. After Georgie strips me down naked (Against my own will and permission, readers.), Dim starts laughing _("Huh huh huh!")_ and putting on my beret hat on his head before opening this black vinyl box to start my own little make-over…

"Don't!" I whimper, tossing my head away from Dim's hand as he tries to hand me a small sponge applicator so that I can put on the cosmetics myself, "I'm not doing this!"

Georgie, holding me with both of his arms around my shoulders and arms while we're sitting on one of his couches, starts to snigger at my expense, "What be the problem, laddy? We all have to do this, you know. Think of it as being like them rock stars, with their glitzy appearances and such."

Dim nods his great big head at Georgie's words solemnly, "That it is, droog, that it is…"

"I'm still not doing this. I'd rather just wear the fucking costume if it means I get to stay away from wearing any make-up." I mumble, my dirty blonde bangs overriding my blushing face. I shut my eyes to keep the hot tears into my eyes, and Georgie only keeps his grip onto me nice and tight while I hear Dim talking with Alex.

"He's not budging, Sir Alex. I don't think he's comfortable with the concept yet," Dim says with a sad undertone twigging his otherwise deep voice, "Best we just let him wear the clothes and start our training. Right right?"

"I'll see what I can do," I hear Alex responding acidly, and I open my eyes to watch him stand from the other couch a bit away from us three before he walks towards me with an impatient expression written all over his face. I cringe.

"Well," Alex says all proper and like, standing over me and Georgie in that narcissist erect posture of his, "Georgie, please let go of Pete so that I can have a proper word with him."

Georgie does so without a second notice, and I cross my inner thighs together while I lay my hands over my manhood, my cheeks burning again in utter embarrassment. I am not one to feel comfortable in the nude in the eyes of other people, you see. My blonde bangs hide my eyes, but through them I can see Alex's front side of his black slacks. Silence disperses the stale warm air, before I hear a couple of sharp whistles, prompting me to slowly lift my chin a little to see Alex's face. He smiles at me, full of evil as always.

"Peter Rabbit," He whispers, bending his knees so he can crouch down right in front of me, "Why won't you do as we say?"

I try to answer him, but I just can't. My dry, tied up throat won't let me talk this time. I watch with fear as Alex smiles even wider before he slaps his hand against my two hands resting on top of my manhood, the fast and hard impact of it caused a painful feeling all over my private parts. I yelp out in pain and surprise, but then it gets caught off by me whimpering as Alex grabs my entire chin and side of my face violently.

"Answer me when I ask you a question," Alex snarls, his grip around my face growing tighter, "Peter Rabbit, why won't you do as we say? What _I _say?"

I croak out, "I… I don't like make-up. I-It's for g-girls… I just don't feel comfortable wearing it… Maybe soon… I-I will feel more comfortable doing it… P-please…"

Alex tilts his head at me, as if not understanding a word I'm saying, but his sinister smile gives me an idea that he knows exactly what I'm trying to explain. I flick my eyes at Dim who is now looking at Alex with a hint of concern in his eyes, almost like he is afraid of how Alex is about to react towards what I just said. My eyes turned a bit towards my left side to see Georgie looking at his hands that is on his kneecaps. Like he wishes he isn't here to see this…

Suddenly, Alex pulls my hands away from my private area, and I am now completely open and in the nude right in front of him. I shut my eyes and try to cross my leg over the other, but Alex just quickly stands up and pins one of his kneecaps right on my leg that just moved, and I yelp out in anger. Dim quickly looks away and casts his eyes downward this time, and Georgie closes his own.

"Open those glazzies, brother! Look at you! Look at what Bog has gifted you! Look at what he has given you… A device of mass destruction and ultra-violence," Alex adds pressure to my leg with his kneecap even further, "All the devotchkas and the cheenas and the ptitsas… Just imagine their litsos once they get to viddy it in person!"

I open one of my eyes reluctantly, and see my manhood just laying there between my otherwise pale thighs. Then I hear Alex laughing out loud.

"You, Pete, you have the power resting between your legs… The power that will finally make all those devotchkas pay for what they've done to you."

I look up at his grinning face and whisper, "Pay? But… for what?"

He stares into my eyes before his face darkens, his eyes glinting and his grin fades away into a scowl, "… What do you think? Pete, I've had my eyes on you since you first came to my public school area. When you were ten years old, do you not remember?"

I couldn't. How can I remember when I'm stripped fully naked in front of an infamous man who's capable of _anything? _

I shake my head at him, and he continues, "You're breaking my heart here! You mean you don't remember me? You were ten years old, I was nine. We were at recess time and I spied on you while you played all on your own in the private garden… Remember me, Pete, please do so."

"I'm trying," I grunt, my hips moving from side to side awkwardly, "But I can't. I guess I was way too much into my own little world to remember everybody from back then…"

"Well, as I was saying… You were always such a little romantic at heart, Pete. Always giving a girl in class love notes, only so she can rip it up right in front of you… O, how much you cried over those girls… How much you wanted to hold them and such…"

"_Fuck this_," I hiss, bucking my hips out so that he can get off of me, "You don't know me!"

He pins his kneecap even further before getting into my face and screaming at it, "_I know you more than you know yourself, you fucking piece of shit!_ All those girls laughed at your tears, Pete, and I saw them with my own two eyes… Something inside of me wanted to get to know you!"

I chew my bottom lip, my eyes wide and angry at him. His face softens a little before inching his face away from me, but still uncomfortably close, "They laughed at your tears, Pete… Wouldn't you want to laugh at their tears now?"

I pause. Okay, so I did have many romantic blunders in my life. I never had a proper girlfriend before, but why should I still get angry over that? I'm fine being on my own… I'm not one to be desperate over gaining a lot of friends, or getting a pretty lady latching on my arm everyday… I'm quite fine being alone…

"I'm fine… I'm fine, really…" I whisper, my own silvery blue eyes staring into his electric blue ones, "I'm quite content being alone… I don't need women…"

"I'm not here to teach you how to get a date, brother," Alex smirks, "I'm here to show you how to give them the ol' in-out in-out, real proper and horrorshow."

Suddenly, my face starts to get hot, "I… I've never even…"

He cocks an eyebrow at me, before his bottom lip and eyes open at me. In the next second, he leans back further before howling and laughing out loud. I blink and my eyes went towards Dim and Georgie's direction, but they still had their eyes casting downward. Like two dolls without any proper opinion.

"You!" Alex chuckles loudly again before getting his face close into mines again, "You, a virgin? _Oh!_ What's this? Oh, you must like me a lot, brother," I hear him chuckling, "You can't possibly be a virgin, Pete… How can you be, with a pan-handle like _that_?"

Ifrown at him confusingly before he flicks his eyes downward before looking into my eyes, his eyebrows shooting up with a mischievous grin. I look down, and sure enough, my little _friend _is just full of it right now. I shut my eyes and growl. How dare he think this… expression… is about him! All the pressure he's putting on my thigh is what's making it stand up! How dare he even have the audacity to think it's because I like him! I'm not queer! How dare he! How _dare he!_

"_Get off of me!"_

"Not until you put on your cosmetics, my little virgin," Alex responds, "I won't get off until you put it on… You know something; I'll put it on for you. Dim!"

I snap open my eyes to see Dim handing Alex the black make-up box, and what other choice do I have but to just sit there and let him play with my face with all the cosmetics that he has in his hand. For the next painfully slow six minutes, I can feel my Master and Leader's hand and fingers rubbing and smudging these loud colored eye shadows onto my right eye. He smiles at his creation before he shows my reflection on a little hand mirror, and I groan at the end results; Dark blue eye shadow lining my eye with bright pink color on the rest of my lid… very very stupid and embarrassing.

Alex, of course, just laughed at my expense. It's either that, readers, or at my very proud standing friend from downstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

**WARNING: The following chapter includes a sequence of rape. Viewer discretion is advised.**

After Georgie and Dim taught me a few fighting moves and how to use my cane effectively against my future enemies, Alex and I walked together back to my small suburban neighborhood, together in perfect silence. I looked at him, studying his face and his hair, and he seems to be almost lost in thought. Back in Georgie's place, while we were all half training and half messing around with each other like young ruffians would… He would just sit in his chair and carefully watch me, his eyes trying to pry out every single little bits of information he can out of me. I'll admit it, but in a way, I felt really important when he did that; here he is, the most infamous villain in our town, and one of the most popular guys in our public school, and he's watching ME. He's walking home with ME. Not anyone else, or any other pretty girl, but ME.

"You seem quiet," I gently break the silence between us as the skies suddenly fade into a dark orange-pink-gray-mess, "What are you thinking about?"

However, he just keeps on walking, as if he didn't hear me, as if he really is deep in thought. I should know better than to try and have my Master and Leader gain his attention over little miserable ol' me, but I'm dying of curiosity now.

"Hey," I stop walking and outstretch my hand out to grab his shoulder, "Ale—"

_Crunch!_

Something suddenly explodes in my face… A great brute painful burst just about blew up from the bridge to my nose and reaches all over my face. I yelp in pain as I retreat to the concrete street, and already I can smell the scent of dirty copper in my nose… I hold my face in anguish as my nose starts to bleed, my whole body shaking from shock and fear. I can immediately feel the fresh hot tears springing into my eyes as I quiver to look up at Alex, who just stands over me all erect yet very creepily casual at the same time. He looks downward at me as if I'm nothing special to look at, something almost _boring _to care about.

"Don't ever touch me again. Do you pony?" Alex says with a hard, cold tone of voice, and his eyes turn into vicious slits at me.

I say nothing to him, dear readers, I only watch him before I swallow the salty lump in my throat before I do what any young fourteen year old boy do when he gets violently elbowed in the face; I start to heave a painful groan and cry like there's no tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Alex safely transported me back to my home, without a word uttered of course, and I closed the gate from behind me until I suddenly felt a hand grab my neck from the back of it. I stand very still until the hand forces me to walk backwards until my spine touches my gate, and I can feel a shiver running up and down inside of my back when Alex presses his chin into my shoulder, the side of his face touching my own.<p>

"Tomorrow is Saturday, so naturally there won't be any skolliwoll. However, you won't be having a day off to get away from me, Peter Rabbit," Alex whispers, his grip on my neck getting tighter, "I expect you to wait for me in the Borehamwood's pop-disc shop."

I stand there in silence, my cast casting heavenward at the now dark blue skies, "… You mean… The Mel-Odia?"

I can feel Alex going all 'mm-hmmm' at me before he turns his head a little so that now his forehead is rubbing against my temple, "You wait for me there, pony? Tomorrow at nine o'clocky clock, sharp."

I stand on the balls of my heels this time, feeling very impatient and wanting to go home, "Alright. Nine o'clock."

"Nine o'clock sharp," Alex repeats himself in a low whisper this time, and he closes his eyes before whispering into my ear, "If you don't get there in time, brother… It will be the last day you'll stand on your dva dorogoy legs."

"I get it. I understand," I reply, "I'll be there. I promise."

We stand there in perfect silence before I can suddenly feel Alex's hand go from the back of my neck to touching the front of my throat, his fingers gently pinching it and letting go as if I'm his pet cat. I stand there in awkward silence, my skin growing goose bumps as he keeps on doing this for the next minute, until he finally lets go and takes a step back with a smirk.

Suddenly I remembered that I still have his hat. I put down my book bag (and my shopping bag filled with my "shaika platties") on the floor, open up the zippers before I gently pull out his bowler hat and hand it to him, "Here. You gave this to me… I wanted to bring it back."

He casually reaches for it and places it on his head, before he tips the hat at me and walks away without saying good night or good bye.

I don't suppose I'll ever understand him, will I?

* * *

><p>"Well then! Here's to your exciting first lesson, dear brother!"<p>

I grunt before Alex grabs the collar of my white button down shirt and pulls me into him before he wraps an arm around my shoulders. I shift upward to get myself standing comfortably before I looked at the side of Alex's face curiously, "So what's the first lesson?"

He turns his head at me with a smile before he nods his head downward, and my eyes follow the direction before I can see the thin stone pathway smacked in between these two four-story high apartments. We were all standing on this one building and from here, I can see all of the town's streets and other buildings' tops, and Alex and his two friends are all laughing away at all of this and, I'm assuming, the worst of what will happen…

"You remember that girl I was talking to at the MEL-ODIA, brother?" Alex replies, looking at me with a grin, "That lanky blonde?"

Oh yeah. When I arrived at the MEL-ODIA a half an hour ago at nine A.M., I found Alex flirting with this tall and shapeless blonde girl, who couldn't be more than sixteen years old. I didn't want to interrupt their little love affair, so I tried to blend in inside the store and looked at all of the brand new CDs that came out recently while watching them from afar from the corner of my peepers. The girl was wearing this light brown turtleneck sweater dress with a nice black belt surrounding her mid section, and black cowboy boots, while Alex and I were wearing our stark white gang clothes. Her long, slightly wavy blonde locks and bright green eyes were enough to make Alex reach out and touch the side of her face gently as she giggles, and I couldn't help but felt very strange when I saw it…

"Yeah, what about her?" I ask sullenly.

"I told her to come round' these parts. You just stand here and watch as the magic unfolds right before your very eyes, my brother," Alex lets go before he taps his cane at the floor a few times, prompting Georgie and Dim to go. I watch them as they went to the exit to go downstairs, and I turn my head as I watch Alex finally follows them.

He disappears into the EXIT door, and I slowly turn around to look at the stone pathway again, and I stand there feeling a bit bored as I wait for the next three minutes. Suddenly, I catch myself staring at the tall lanky blonde girl who slips into my view as she walks into the stone pathway, looking up at the tall buildings that are resting from her left and right side. She stops and looks forward, and her face breaks out into a bright smile as I see Alex coming out from the building that I'm currently on top of, and she walks towards him as Alex takes a few steps towards her. Just as she was about a few feet away from Alex, he suddenly stops and I hold my breath as I see Georgie coming out from another pathway and into her right side now. She stops and looks at him, shock scrawling all over her pale face as she looks from Georgie and Alex and back again. I can hear Alex say something, I'm not sure what, but my eyes widen as I see Georgie grabs a hold her arm and hear her loud piercing shriek breaking into the autumn air. She smacks him in the face before turning back and runs away, and my heart starts to beat quicker as she turns her head to see Alex and Georgie as she keeps on running.

But right when she is about to make her escape… Dim jumps out in front of her and wraps his arms around her, one arm around her midsection and keeping her arms inside and the other arm wrapped around her shoulders as he clasp his hand over her mouth. She struggles like a live fish as he heaves her up and walks towards Alex and Georgie, who just walks up towards them casually and without alarm.

I watch in pure horror as Alex unbuckles his cod piece and throws it on the side carelessly before he pulls down his white pants, and I can hear Dim and Georgie laughing as the girl struggles even harder. My knees start to buckle and I let myself slowly fall to the floor, my stomach twisting and the feel of wanting to upchuck overcoming my senses. I still watch them, though, as Dim holds on as Alex lifts the hem of her sweater dress and pulls down her panties, and Georgie comes from the other side of Dim before he grabs a hold of her ankles and lifts them up before spreading them out, and Alex finally grabs her naked thin hips before he finally gets in front of her…

I close my eyes shut and hold my mouth with both of my hands to prevent myself from vomiting as I hear her screaming in pain as Alex rapes her, her sobs and shrills causing me to want to go and save her. I can feel my breakfast that my mum made me a few hours ago before I left to see Alex coming up and down from my stomach to my throat, and I dare open one of my eyes to watch in horror as Alex pumps away into the blonde's young body, Dim laughing like a right gorilla and Georgie smiling at all of this as if this were just a child's play and nothing else.

I watch for the next half hour as they all took turns of raping the young girl, Dim being especially rough and hard on her as she bawls out in tears, and Georgie grabbing her throat until she's purple in the face as he rides into her while Alex and Dim cheers him on with a couple of heartless laughs thrown in there. The feeling of sickness went away, but the feelings of horror and helplessness remains as I kept on watching this gruesome scene of 'ultra-violence'. The blonde's legs are now decorated with trails of blood that came out of her once-virgin sexual organ, and as Georgie finally comes, he viciously throws her down on the floor and pulls up his pants, dusting himself off. I watch as she fold herself into a helpless fetus position, her blonde hair all wet with sweat and tears, and Alex and his two friends all nod to each other a job well done.

My face burns in shock and my heart starts to beat loud enough until I can hear it in my head, my stomach growling at me as I hold it with my shaking hands. I hold my breath, hoping that I won't get sick again, hoping I can be strong this time… but time stands dangerously still when I finally see Alex looks up from where I'm standing at and winks at me, and I finally open my mouth to throw up all over the building's front exterior.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

_I double myself over Georgie's toilet and hurl today's lunch right into it. After having to watch the rape scene between Alex and his friends, we all quickly broke out and ran back to Georgie's place. Georgie made us chicken with bacon clubs, with a side of cheese and coleslaw and some sugary soda. Maybe I'm allergic to something Georgie put in… Maybe he's trying to kill me for some reason. Or maybe it was Alex who tried to kill me by adding something in my sandwich… Or maybe it was eating while obsessing over every detail of the rape incident._

"_Oh, Pete," I can hear Dim from the other side of the bathroom door, "Will you be horrorshow again soon, I pray?"_

_I grab a hold on the rim of toilet seat, burping a little bit, "Yeah… Yeah."_

"_Well, real dobby. Alex was wondering if you would come to the Korova Milkbar with us after you're done."_

_I made myself still so that the feelings of nausea can peacefully go away, "… The Korova Milkbar? What's that?"_

_"Oh, very nice mesto to itty when you need a knify ol' moloko. Great bolshy firegolds they got there, bratty; you won't regret it, I know that!"_

"_Well, alright. Just give me a minute, alright?" I get up with a bit of weakness before I start washing up in the sink, opening the mirror cabinet to see what Georgie's got hiding in there. So far, I found a bottle of mouthwash, a tube of toothpaste, a comb, a shaving razor (with a travel size can of shaving cream), and some moisturizing hair cream. Ha!_

_I open the bottle of mouthwash and took a little bit of it in, letting it soak inside my mouth for a while until I could no longer stand the burning of the alcohol before I spit into the sink._

_I open the door and immediately, readers, the feeling of nausea came back; for there, when I open and closed the bathroom door behind me, I find myself staring straight into the eyes of Alex DeLarge. He stares into my eyes, his expression very unreadable this time, but it's the kind of look you would receive when someone is suspicious of your motives and yet… Alex is almost smiling at me at the same time…_

"_Had fun in there, brother?" He asks with a smooth voice. I back up against the bathroom door and gulp awkwardly._

"_W-What do you mean? How can someone throwing up," I grunt, "have fun doing it?"_

_He gives me a half shrug casually before taking a couple of steps and getting his face dangerously close to my own,__"Eemya me bezoomny, dear brother, but lewdies have like done me wrong in the past and…. I'd like to make sure that won't be the case between you and I, you pony? I can honestly govoreet that I've come to like you a whole lot these past few encounters between us." _

"_Well, I," I try to back my face up so he won't be as uncomfortable close anymore, to no avail, "I like you too, Alex. Really."_

_He smiles wild and crazy like before he gently wraps his fingers around my throat, "I'm glad… Peter."_

_Peter… Peter… Peter…_

"Peter?"

I snap open my eyes to see my wife, Georgina, looking at me with great concern in her dark eyes. We are in the middle of having dinner at her apartment, and I seem to have been out of touch with reality for quite some time. How long have I been like this? I must have been gone for what seemed like hours, just sitting there and thinking about everything that happened to me over five years ago. I look down to see my hands resting on her wooden table, the cup of the once hot tea now turning lukewarm and useless. I gulp before I flick my eyes into her own, and she grunts a little, visibly upset and questioning my sanity right now.

It's been years since I last been with my gang… years since I vomited at the sight of Alex raping that sixteen year old girl in front of me. Years since I and Alex and Dim and Georgie went around causing mayhem and misery on those who were unfortunate to be on our paths at night. Years since, with the help of Georgie and Dim, tricked Alex and got him in the state's prison. Years since he suffered the after effects of the Ludovico treatment and his suicide attempt and all that horrible shit in between…

I'm now twenty years old. Just had my little birthday party with my family and I, alongside with Georgina of course, just yesterday. Of course, I wasn't myself when I was there, because a couple of days before it, I came across Alex in the little café and caught me completely by surprise.

"Hm?" I said underneath my breath, and she signs.

"You're doing it again," She whispers with the most gentle voice that she's been blessed with, "What are you thinking about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's about _him_… Right? Ever since we saw him a few days ago… I don't know. You're just not you anymore."

I abruptly stand up from my chair, making her gasp a little bit, and I stare hard at her. For one, I can't blame her; I've changed. I realized that. But how can you be so happy and calm after you run into a disturbing aspect of your life like that? How can you ever breathe easy at night again? My fists start to clench out of her view, and her eyes widen at me…

"_Jesus," I breathed out a stream of white smoke out of my mouth, "It's getting cold and dark here…"_

_Georgina, wearing this absolutely adorable furry winter coat and all these other stuff to keep her silly self warm, giggles at me before wrapping her arms around my right one playfully, "Come on, we're almost there. Let's just get something to drink to warm ourselves a bit before we get to Greg's place."_

"_I wish that bastard didn't lived so far from me," I smirked at nothing ahead of me, picturing his tall stature with those smart-aleck glasses and that swooshy-swoosh hair of his, "He lives about thirty minutes away from me by foot. Ridiculous!"_

"_Come on, now!" Georgina urges me before kissing my cold cheek, "We'll freeze to death if we don't get to the café soon enough."_

_So off we went, and the rest of the trip there became a blur; we got to the moderately filled up café and got ourselves a cup of hot coffee to warm ourselves up. We both sit down in one restaurant booth, Georgina next to me instead of in front of me, of course, and we both lit up our cigarettes and enjoy ourselves some nice conversation about how much we love each other, our future together, and all that romantic sappy shit._

_I am now nineteen years old, just barely about to hit twenty, and about two months ago, I have met the love of my life; Georgina Smith. She has naturally light brown hair but she likes to dye it in all sorts of colors, as confusing as it is to me as a man would naturally be. One month, she could have raven hair; the next red, and now she's rocking the light blonde look. She always does a good job, though, since she never looks bad._

"_Drink your coffee, babe," I tease her gently as I tickle her rib cage a little. She gasps before shoving me with her hand._

"_Don't do that!" She whispers, "You know how ticklish I am!"_

"_That's because you're so fucking cute," I whisper back, planting a kiss on her cheek before she purrs and rubs her face against mine._

_We continue our little silly fight of who's cuter, until I hear a little bell ringing and the front door opening…_

I unclench my fists and sigh with my eyes closed, before I open them up again to give her a reassuring smile, "It's nothing, alright? I'm fine."

_I see a man, perhaps a touch younger than me, with loose fitting clothing and wavy hair the color of…_

"Peter…" Georgina whispers, her eyes almost watering.

_Honey._

"I'm gonna go out for a walk, alright?" I say to her, and leave our apartment room without any more words. I close the door from behind me, my blond bangs casting a shadow over my eyes…

_Waves of honey._

_My eyes widen and my breath gets caught in my throat, and I break out a cold sweat…_

"_Peter?" Georgina touches the side of my face, "You don't look so good…"_

_I can't believe it… It's him. It's Alex. Him and his cold, hard blue eyes. He still had on his trusty black bowler hat but the rest of his once-stark white attire is no more; now it's very wide black trousers, a shiny black leather jacket over an open-necked shirt with a scarf tucked in there, and great big boots._

_I can't let him see me like this… I have to stay calm. For myself. For Georgina and everybody involved in my life…_

_I take a deep breath, remembering what Greg told me about 'emptying your mind' and 'breathe in nice and deep' and all of his hippy bullshit on natural therapy since I'm always on edge. So I did just that, with my steel blue eyes closed and all that…_

I walk outside, out into the cold winter night, and I walk across the street just thinking about where to go. I could go to that bridge that's nearby, that overlooks the ocean and all that…

"_I'll be fine. I'm sorry," I kiss Georgina on the mouth, my heart still beating like crazy though._

_She smiles before turning around from behind, "Gee whiz, look at the size of that clock!"_

_I turn round to see where she's looking at, and of course, I see this great big antique clock, ticking away ever so quietly in the background._

"_Well, I'll be damned." I snigger a little as she laughs. I seem to have this natural knack of making her smile and laugh. I guess this is why I love her so much; she's the first girl that makes me feel completely at ease._

I rub my pale hands together furiously before huffing my hot air into the small opening of them once I cupped them together. I open my eyes to take in the view of the midnight oceans, everything so beautiful and black while the golden moon rests just above the waters, creating a beautiful soft, yellow glow all over the otherwise harsh noir-colored water.

"How long…" I ask to myself, suddenly aware of how lonely and quiet it is around me, "… How long will I suffer? Why can't the memories just leave me alone?"

"_Well well well, droogie, what gives? Very very long time no viddy."_

I close my eyes angrily.

_By then, I have calmed myself down considerably and have mentally prepared myself for this, "It's little Alex, isn't it?"_

"_None other," Alex walked up to our table before sitting down on the booth seat in front of us, "A long long long time since those dead and gone good days. And now poor Georgie, they told me, is underground and old Dim is a brutal millicent, and here is thou and here is I, and what news hast thou, old droogie?"_

_Georgina giggles, "He talks funny, doesn't he?"_

"_This," I pointed at Alex while smiling at her, "Is an old friend. His name is Alex. May I," I look at Alex with a grin, "Introduce my wife?"_

_His mouth opens in shock at me, "Wife?"_

_I nod my head before gripping her hand under the table, unbeknownst to him. He continues to gape at me before saying, "Wife wife wife? Ah no, that cannot be. Too young art thou to be married, old droog. Impossible impossible."_

_Georgina giggles some more before turning to me, "Did you used to talk like that too?"_

_I ignored her question, for I am too busy now just ENJOYING the sight of Alex crippling and feeling very small under me for the very first time, my readers. Here I am, who used to be bossed around by the likes of him, and now here I am, all grown up like a man and have a beautiful caring wife in my arms. Alex always liked to be the one to try everything in life first; first guy to fuck girls, first guy to drink alcohol, first guy to crash a car… but now, I beat him to the punch._

_Here I am, Pete, the once socially awkward virgin, am now a man, and he can't STAND IT!_

"_Well," I reply to Alex, with a boastful little smile, "I'm nearly twenty. Old enough to be hitched, and it's been two months already. You were very young and very forward, remember?"_

_Of course he remembers, the fucking fool. Look at him, all like embarrassed and wanting to walk away from this. He remembers damn well just how forward he was… very forward in flirting with young girls just to rape them in front of me, as if taunting me. Every time… Every time he would rape them, he would turn his head to look into my eyes before smirking evilly at me, his sweat-drenched hair going all golden metal all around his porcelain face. Forward, 'twas he, when he physically abused everyone around him._

"_Well," he grunts a little, still gaping at me, "Over this can I not, old droogie. Pete married. Well well well."_

"Taunting me, are you?" I whisper bitterly, yet with a smile I laugh a little under my breath.

_Oh, so now he's taunting me. What, did he really think I would stay a perfect little virgin forever? So what if I NEVER raped any girls with him and Dim and Georgie; I did my work with them just fine. He really thought I'd be an immature kid, well no more no more!_

"_We have a flat," I said quickly, feeling a bit defensive all of a sudden, "I am earning very small money at State Marine Insurance, but things will get better, that I know. And Georgina here-"_

"_What again is that name?" Alex asks, his mouth opening even more. Ugh, there he goes again, interrupting me since I'm so FUCKING introverted and quiet and he's so FUCKING extroverted and loud._

"_Georgina," I repeat myself, "Georgina works too. Typing, you know. We manage, we manage. You must come see us sometime. You still look very young, despite all your terrible experiences."_

_His mouth closes and now he's staring straight into my eyes, blushing in embarrassment this time. I smirk and thought 'Got'cha!' with glee in my heart._

"_Yes, yes, yes, we've read all about them." I continue, and he sinks into his chair a little bit, now ready to die of shame. Boom, headshot._

"_But," I close my eyes with that arrogant smirk still implanted on my face, "of course, you are very young still."_

_I open my eyes just in time when he answers with a monotone voice, "Eighteen. Just gone."_

"_Eighteen, eh?" I smirk a little wider and he slits his eyes at me suspiciously, "As old as that. Well well well."_

_He stares hard at me a little bit before I sigh, "Now, we have to be going."_

"Jealousy," I whisper, scraping the heel of my shoe against the street, "That little Alex has em', oh yes…"

_His face suddenly looks hurtful when he sees my hands grasping between her one hand. I suddenly feel a bit giddy and give her a loving look just to hurt him further, just to show him how much of a human being I am while he's a cold-blooded monster who can never properly love and be loved. Georgina, unaware of this mental battle Alex and I are secretly having together, just gives me a loving look in return._

"_Yes," I say, turning to him again, "We're off to a little party at Greg's."_

"_Greg?" Alex innocently (if that's ever even possible, but here he is!) inquires._

"_Oh, of course. You wouldn't know Greg, would you? Greg is after your time. While you were away Greg came into the picture. He runs little parties, you know… Mostly wine-cups and word-games. But very nice, very pleasant, you know. Harmless, if you see what I mean."_

_Of course he knows what I mean. He thinks he can be my abusive Master and Leader forever and ever, just like he thought back then when we were just a bunch of rotten kids in a small street gang. He'll never be harmless, this little Alex; he knows it, I know it, the whole world knows it by now. His cheeks reddens a little bit before answering,_

"_Yes. Harmless. Yes, yes, I viddy that real horrorshow."_

_Georgina once again laughs at his word (As did I, on the inside.) and off we both went to leave him alone with his lukewarm and useless tea._

I suddenly hear a noise, and I turn around, "Hm?"

I scan my eyes into the night's darkness, seeing nothing but just the midnight skies. I turn back around to lay my arms over the bridge railing, sighing with a little bit sadness in me before…

"_Well well well! Hast my glazzies deceive me, for it isn't Peter Rabbit!"_

My whole body gets thunderstruck by a lightening of fear and surprise before I whip myself to the side and the last thing I saw before everything turns black, is a pair of icy blue eyes and an evil evil evil smile…

He places a small towel over my mouth before I inhale the chloroform, and from there, I fainted.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

"_Welly welly welly welly well! Looks like poor ol' Peter Rabbit seemed like gone past!"_

_His voice. He doesn't yell but his cockney accent and the crystal clarity of it all made me jump out of my skin. My eyes open to see the Korova Milkbar's customers playing around and drinking themselves half-stupid. How long since I was 'gone'? The kinfy ol' moloko is all but drained out from my cup into my system, and I can feel the pricks of the aftereffects jabbing away into my conscious, like a nasty old drug. My eyes fluttered until I made them move towards the direction to where the voice came from…_

_Alex smirks at me before playfully slapping his hand on my kneecap, "Poor ol' Pete! This is your first raz coming here and peeting the ol' knify moloko, yes yes yes?"_

_I gulp, feeling my insides shaking from all the drugs, before I manage to give him a weak nod, "Yes…"_

_He chuckles, taking a "peet" of his own cup of moloko plus. I avert my hazy gaze to my other side, where I see Georgie and Dim giving wolf whistles and howls at the dancing young women nearby them. We all sat down on this sofa, all of us four together, and up ahead I get to see all these other sofas on the left and right side of the hallway where I can see many different city folks and even gang members having fun. This was not what I planned to be doing with my life at the tender, tender age of fourteen…_

"_Cheer up, brother!"_

_I turn my head a little to look at Alex again, who just placed his cup on top of this odd table that's really a naked mannequin doing a sexually submissive pose. He turns to me before staring into my eyes, his lips cracking a mild smile before he slowly places his fingers to rub the front of my throat area._

_I look down on his fingers before looking back at him with a raised eyebrow, "Why are you so obsessed with my neck for?"_

_He gives me a half-shrug with a snigger, "I've never viddied such a smooth shiyah before, that's all… A lot of malchickiwicks around our age seem to have osoosh skin or are already growing a beard… Nasty, nasty cal, I tell you!"_

_I grab his wrist and pull it off my neck, shoving it out into the air. Alex laughs, and I couldn't help but smile a little bit._

…

My eyes flutter open, and the first thing I see is a blur of dark grey and black. I shut my eyes with a grunt, hoping that by doing that my vision can be restored back to normal. That is when I couldn't feel myself moving freely, my readers; my ankles are roped tightly together, my hands are tied behind my back and somebody placed a piece of duck tape over my mouth. _What is going on? Why am I like this? Am I being held captive?_

At the last thought, I snap my eyes open and start wailing, rocking my body back and forth trying to free myself with all of my remaining strength. I keep bumping against this concrete wall behind me, and suddenly I can see the rest of the room I'm in; it looks like a basement of some sort… An unfinished, cold, concrete basement at that. I sit back, moaning and wailing against the duck tape, and that is when I start to hear somebody walking towards me.

I turn my head to the right before I see, right before my very eyes, an old friend. He stands about a few feet away from me, wearing a dark red bathroom robe with black bed slippers, holding a glass of red wine in his left hand while smoking a cigarette in his other one. I glower at him, and he smirks at me. This prompted me to start screaming against the duck tape.

"Oh, now now now, Pete deary! No need to get very very razdraz! It's just your starry droog, Alex! He won't do anything to hurt you. Now stop creeching; nobody can slooshy you, you know!" He lifts his left arm up to take a sip of his red wine, his expression softening to a satisfied one as I hear him gulping its content down his throat. I can clearly see the front of his Adam's apple protruding out and in as he drinks, and he takes the glass away from his lip with a breathy _"ahh!"_ sound. He places the cigarette in this ashtray that sits on top of this small, wooden basement bar before placing the cup of wine next to the ashtray.

"Mmf fmm!" I cried into the duck tape, trying to say, _"Let me out!"_

He smiles at me evilly, slowly taking his time to walk towards me. He bends down before me, staring into my eyes with his cold unfeeling ones, and he smirks before he takes the side of the duck tape with his two fingers, "I'll shvat the tape out, my bratty, but you'll have to promise me that you won't start horning like a malenky baby… pony?"

I nod my head in reluctant defeat, and he finally rips it out of my mouth and I cry out in pain after he does it. I take in a shaking breath, my face flushed with both anger and embarrassment, for now I realize I am completely naked.

Silence envelopes us both in for a moment, and I can literally feel his ice cold stare burning a hole in me, despite me looking on the ground. I shiver, leaning my back against the concrete wall behind me before whispering, "Why?"

"To be honest with like you, Pete… When I viddied you and your zheena a few days ago, I grew jealous of your success. To tell you the truth, after meeting you there… I was out and about smottovat for a zheena of me own. Then I realize that nobody wanted me…"

I say nothing. He continues.

"It was the day after I last viddied you with like your zheena that I goolied around in public, tolchocking on all the damas that I came across, but since they knew of me and what sloochatted to me, they whisk me away like I was an insect of some sort. The world is cruel, I suddenly realized, and as I sit in the park that afternoon, I just kept thinking about you and how you managed to snag such a beautiful dama of your own.

So, that nochy, I've decided to start vareeting to kidnap you and keep you here for my entertainment. But not only that, Pete… I also need you to be my playmate to filly "domy" together, you being my jeezny partner of that sort, and me bringing the bacon at our domy."

"You," I growled, my face sizzling as I lift my head up to glare at him, "want me to be your… _life partner?_"

He nods simply with a smile, "Mmhmm! Oh, but it's nothing romantic or sexual of the sort, my brother. I don't swing that way, you viddy. I just need you around in my jeezny before I DO get a dama of my own."

"So let me get this straight. You were hurt and jealous of seeing me, of all people, being happy and successful, and instead of letting it go like any adult would," I grit my teeth, "… You _abduct me_ against my will so we can play house together. You can't be upset on your own, can you? You just HAVE to bring others down with you!"

He looks at me with a pleasant surprise, "Well! Pete deary, look at you now! All bolshy and strong and unafraid of me! You used to be the quietest shaika member, now look at you!"

I say nothing, my readers, only staring hard at him. He chuckles.

"Well well well! I certainly can't help but be impressed by the new you! You and I are ittying to be bolshy jeezny partners, I just know it! Now… Let us viddy what we shall do first," he ponders, scratching his chin. He's not much of a good planner, is he?

"Clothes," I whisper, and he looks at me and at my body confusingly, "I need clothes, Alex. I'm cold."

"Oh yes, bratty, you certainly do need platties. I shvatted all your platties away to cheest them, if you don't mind. I'll give you my starry pair of spat wear, if you don't mind. Do you?"

I shake my head no.

"Real dobby! I'll go get you your spat wear, then, and I'll release you so you can jump into your bed," he says as he wraps his arms around me to open the ropes that tied my wrists together, "It's over at the corner behind me."

I look and there it was; a single bed with no frame, just tossed carelessly on the floor, with no bed sheets, no comforters or blankets of any sort... Nothing but just a thin blanket and a simple white pillow to rest my head on. I shudder.

"_That's_ the bed?" I ask, rubbing my reddened wrist with one of my hands, "I won't be kept warm in _that!_"

Alex moves on to the rope that tied my ankles together and tries to loosen them up with his hands, "If you do get cold, there is a malenky closet door next to your bed if you can viddy it. There's an extra podooshka and a wool blanket. The wooden bar contains a full bottle of moloko if you need some. It has no drencroms in it, sadly. And if you haven't noticed this either… There's a malenky fridge behind the bar, and a malenky stove next to the fridge. Things don't smot very nice around here, I know… But this will do until I vareet something out later, O my brother."

The ropes are finally loose and away from my nude ankles, and what's left behind but angry marks of red and purple by the rope burn. I see Alex toss the rope away from us, and he looks back at me with a smirk, "It's great seeing you again, dear friend."

I just sit there silently while giving him an upset expression, but his smile just gets wider. I hiss, "I really hate you sometimes!"

"You don't mean that, brother. Now, I'll be right back with your pajamas so you'll lovet up on your much needed rest. For tomorrow," he leans into my face, "You and I are ittying to be very busy together. Pony?"

"I can always just leave," I hiss, "I can always just sneak out! What then, **Little Alex**?"

In that abrupt second, he slaps me harshly across the face. After getting over the shock, I gasp when I can feel Alex's hand wrapped around my throat before his shoves himself right on top of me, him straddling my hips while I try to catch my breath.

He glowers at me, tightening his grip around my throat, "Watch that. Do watch that rot of yours, Peter Rabbit, or else I'll be getting my britva to cut your gorlo out in cold cold krovvy. I promise you do that, dear brother."

The next thing I knew, I am in the dark, wrapping the wool blanket with the thin blanket around my pale skinny body, shivering in the cold. Alex decided to punish me by not giving me any pajamas to sleep in, and so I am subjected to the coldness of the basement, my dear readers. I would jump at every slightest noise, for I fear that it was Alex who is waiting around the corner to jump out at me and kill me. I cling to the blankets tighter, breaking out in cold sweat…

So much for Alex's new beginnings, huh?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Wakey-wakey!"

As quick as I awoke, readers, I felt my blanket ripped out of my body and was introduced to the chilly morning air in the unfinished basement. I yelp out loud.

"_W-wha?"_ I yell out, my face and neck flushing furiously as I cross my leg over the other to cover my little 'droogie' downstairs, _"Alex!"_

There he stands over me with that arrogant smirk plastered his English face, his wavy hair in a wreckful of tsunami of gold, and his eyes are clear and blue as the azure skies, "Morning hast cometh and thoust shall get up to make your Master and Privodevat's breakfast! I hope you know how to make eggiwegs, right right?"

I grunt before sitting up, my skin forming goose bumps as I rub my hand over my tired face, "Yeah, I can some of those. I'll just need some clothes to put on, if you don't _mind_…"

Alex gives out a small, queer little giggle before turning around to retrieve something. The next thing I know, he tosses a silky, white bathroom robe at me. I look down, rubbing by thumb and index finger through its magnificent fabric, and I could feel my breath stuck in my throat.

"This is beautiful," I whisper, "Where did you get this?"

"I crasted it."

Oh, of course.

I look up at him, "Where exactly, though?"

He cocks an eyebrow at me, "Why the interessovat, brother?"

I shake my head with a little smile. Despite everything; our rough past together, the way he treats me and other people around him, how cold his eyes are, his violent antics him kidnapping me away from my beloved wife… I still find him incredibly charming. How does he do it, I'll never know. But something inside of me push me to tell him why.

"My father had something like this," I whisper, rubbing the fabric with my two fingers again, "He's dead now."

A pause.

"I'm sorry." Alex simply said. No emotions, no reluctance or uncomfortable grunts that people usually do at times like these, just a casual "I'm sorry" as if it were nothing.

I clench at the sleeve of the bathroom robe, "It's fine. I'm fine."

_Are you?_

I don't know how long time stood still in that moment, readers. Here I am, clenching to the point of ruining the silky fabric of the bathroom robe, my bangs covering my eyes as I silently wept, and I can still feel Alex's white hot stare burning a hole through me. I don't know how long we were there, him staring at me curiously, me staring at the fabric in front of me, the quiet murmuring of the water heater nearby…

I suddenly feel some added weight in front of me, and I glance up to see a pair of blue twin orbs boring into my own, "Alex…"

He says nothing, nothing at all. He continues to stare at me, his eyes bright with shone of utter brilliancy and curiosity, and before I knew it… He lifts his two fingers to stroke one of my cheek to wipe away the tear residue off.

"I wonder what it's like to care for someone," he mumbles. My eyes widen; _what?_

"W-what do you mean?" I said, blushing. He stares at me before giving me a mild smile.

"Just how you are, how lewdies are... How they love and care for those surrounding them. How you love your em, your pee and your zheena... I'll never pony it. Why do you care for them so much, when you have yourself to worry over for?"

I blink. What is he trying to pull here?

He continues, "I just don't get it, Pete. Someday, lewdies are going to betray you, one way or another. Someday, the ones you love might just hurt you or ookadeet you. You only have yourself in the end. That's why I am how I am; I may not ever experience the emotions of the average guy, but it's part how I was born and," he lifts his hand to look at it, "And half being oomny about how the world rabbits, Pete. Do you pony?"

I say nothing, but I have a feeling he knew what I was thinking. He smirks at his hand before flicking his eyes at me.

"When I viddied you with Georgina," he presses on, "I couldn't believe my very glazzies. When I first met you, you were like a malenky, defenseless malenky baby animal, all shivering in fear and what not, and I grew extremely interessovated in you. I suppose that the theory of opposites attract rings all too true for me now!"

I cross my arms in defense while glaring at him, "Don't get so cocky with me! As If I have any homoerotic interests in you!"

His eyes harden at me now, "I meant as a droog, you twat."

… _Friend?_

Oh God, what the fuck did I just implied?

I stammer, "I… I didn't… m-mean to assume—"

Now he's the one who's crossing his arms at me, "Pete, when did I ever implied that I was interessovated in you in that way? You're putting slovos in my rot for no reason at all."

_Oh God…_

He closes his eyes, "You seem to keep implying all these silly messels about us being together in that way, and I'm frankly quite uncomfortable with like that, Pete…"

_Oh God…!_

He opens his eyes now, still hard with disappointment, "You're always staring at me on top of that! I know I'm attractive, but…"

_Oh God!_

"… You should really get over your silly obsession with me."

I shut my eyes, my face burning, "…I!"

_Silence. _

And then, there it was; that _'tut tut tut' _taunting noise coming from Alex. My eyes snapped open at him in shock and anger.

I grit my teeth before doing the unthinkable. I grab my pillow and fling it right into his face, _"Shut your hole!"_

…

Immediately, I start to shake. _What did I just do? What the hell have I done? What's going to happen to me now?_

Alex stares at me in this expression that I've never seen before, deer in the headlights with anger bubbling over him.

_Oh God…_

"_Agh!"_ I croak out as he grabs the front of my throat before he pushes me against the cold cement wall behind me, _"Ugh!"_

He straddles my hips, completely overpowering me now, and he gets his pale face dangerously close to my own. There is something unusually silent about this man, something ominous and evil when he stares at you like that. His eyes grew into angry slits at me and his bright white teeth bares at me with a low growl, and he tightens his grip around my neck even further. I manage a small, pathetic chocking cry out in that last second before he begins to whisper.

"_Don't,"_ the grip gets tighter, _"ever,"_ and tighter, _"do that,"_ and tighter, _"ever again."_

Both of my hands were over his fist around my throat now, gripping and trying to rip them out from me. I can feel the blood inside of my head stop moving, but I manage to weakly nod. I must look so purple now…

He finally lets go, and I take a deep breath. But it wasn't until then, my readers, when he finally closes his opening act of torturing Peter Rabbit with one final blow. He makes a fist before slamming it down between the member between my thighs, and I saw stars…

But I held it in. I held in my cries of pain or screams of horror. I only respond by casting my eyes heavenward at the gray ceilings above me in pain, and I slowly let myself drop and drape all over Alex, who surprisingly doesn't yell or push me away. Instead, he wraps his arms around me, letting me choke in my own tears as he continues on with the wretched _'tut tut tut' _sound.

"Fool." I hear him whisper acidly into my ear.

_Better a witty fool than a foolish wit._

"_My yarbles…"_ I croak out.

And then there were silvery laughter coming from the mouth of the cold blooded rapist.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Hisssss!_

I hum a little sad tune to myself as I watch the egg yolk and its whites sizzling in the frying pan. My song was just random notes here and there, some high, some low, until all of a sudden I started to hum a particular song; that being, of course, the classical song "La Vie En Rose". It's a beautiful song, especially when it was conducted by Louis Armstrong. Boy, does that man sure know how to sing. I remember how my mother would play his songs on her music box while she would start knitting in her rocking chair, half singing and half humming along with him.

Mother… I wonder how she is right now. You see, after Georgie, Dim, and I tricked Alex into becoming a prisoner, we continued on our hoodlum ways for about a month until Georgie and Dim had this stupid revelation that it was time to grow up. Just like that, after so many cruel memories we've made together of making others suffer, they decided to give it all up to conform the masses. Fuck them. Anyway, what was I saying?

… Oh right, my mother. Yes. Well, after a month of playing around with Georgie and Dim, I came back home and burned all of my gang clothes in my small backyard. I remember that day clearly; the skies were a slate gray, the wind was chilly and smelled of the upcoming winter. The bright orange flames, consuming my gang clothes, reaches way high up to touch the silver skies, and for a moment… I grew in awe. How I wished to be that flame. How I wished to be so tall and mighty like the flame, so brave and feverish and everlasting, my dear readers and friends.

After I burned my clothes, I went inside my house to take care of my mother. She was quite confused that day, since I hardly showed my face at home anymore. My days were consumed with school, and then right afterward I would meet up with Alex in the courtyard so that we can start our glory days of blood drenched violence. It would go on and on, readers, until around 10 PM when I couldn't go on anymore. I would head back home, quietly so that I wouldn't wake my dear mum up, and sneak into my bedroom to fall asleep. Rinse and repeat. It goes on all week except for Sundays, for even the wicked Alex and his two friends wanted to let the seventh day be a day of Christ.

For the odd Saturdays when Alex wouldn't ring my telephone to come out and play, I would take the precious time to myself and spend some time with my mum. She would question my absences at home, only so I would tell her that I was with my new friends studying for the school subjects. My poor, dear, sweet mother… She believed every word of it and went back to making her tea.

…

I put down the two plates of breakfast (Eggs, ham, toast with butter and jelly on the side, and home fries.) on the small kitchen table before sitting down. I patiently wait for Alex to come downstairs, my stomach making weird hunger noises. I even made us some coffee so that Alex wouldn't fall asleep on his way to work. _That little fuck, I swear._ He's going to be late and turn it all on me!

Finally, after a minute of behaving like a boiling little tea pot, I hear somebody coming down the stairs. That's when I see Alex walking towards me to sit down in the kitchen table in front of me. He says nothing to me, readers, not even as far as taken a fucking peek at me. He just takes his fork and butter knife and silently digs in. No "thank you", no "good morning", nothing. I liked it better when he was loud and annoying and even abusive; when he would ignore me, I would feel like the smallest person in the galaxy.

I start to eat my own breakfast, reading the morning paper as Alex does the same. I couldn't help but sometimes let my eyes flick up from the papers to look at Alex, wondering what's going on inside that head of his, what are his long-term plans with me will be, why is he still quiet with me. Was it because I flung that pillow at his face almost an hour back? He smashed my genitalia into pieces, isn't that enough punishment on its own?

I continue to watch him secretly above the newspaper, his expression solemn and his eyes concentrating hard. I want to talk to him so badly, but I know I can't.

We continue to eat our breakfast and drink our coffee before Alex stands up from his chair, "I'll be working and coming home at 6 PM. Do make sure that dinner will be ready by then. That is an order, not a suggestion," he stares at me hard, "Understood?"

I stare at him, dumbfounded, before his aqua eyes widen at me impatiently. I snap out of it instantly before mumbling, "Sure."

He stares at me for a while before walking off, and I let my eyes follow him behind. He is dressed for success today; a light blue business shirt with a bright red tie, black dress pants with leather oxford shoes in the same shade. Utterly and totally conventional, just like Dim after becoming a cop. I watch Alex as he puts on his black blazer on over him before bending down to grab a hold of his suitcase before walking out of his house. No "See you later", no "Have a great day", nothing.

Even after Alex left, my eyes still rests at the door that he just traveled through, almost wishing he would come back. I don't know why I want that, honestly. I just want to see him again and have him at least say something informal to me, rather than being a fucking automatic robot towards me. I'd rather he tease me like he used to rather than treat me like a maid that he has no history with. Anything would be better than this…

I sigh, standing up to gather up the dirty cups and dishes to clean them. Afterward, I start my morning routine of mopping the floors, wiping the windows and hard surfaces everywhere, lighting up scented candles to create a more homely atmosphere, and doing the laundry. My mother taught me home economics while I was growing up, so doing these things were of second nature to me. I'd make a damn good wife had circumstances been different.

After all that's left and done, I plop my tired body down on the cheap imitation leather couch before turning on the TV. British comedy shows ran all the time during the week day mornings, so I let my tired body rest while I watch these skits play. There were a few moments where I would chuckle at the television set, but overall, my mind kept going back to someone else…

Georgina. I wonder how she's holding up now. Today, I could have been at our apartment right now, getting ready to go on another job hunt while she stays home. God, I miss her. I miss her dark almond shaped eyes, her glowing skin, her smile… I behaved like a right asshole to her the other night, and it landed me right back to here of all places…

I could call her. I could email her. I could go back to her apartment and pretend this entire ordeal never happened… but Alex works for the government now. Who knows what sorts of connections he has right now… He might even lie through his teeth and have them carry me away someplace far, far away from here. I have to play my cards right if I want to get out of this place alive and in one piece.

I turn off the television set before looking around Alex's home. He owns a cheap little house smacked in a low middle class area, and everywhere I turn I see gray. Gray walls, gray ceilings, gray skies, no hope for joy, and he had a basement and an upper floor for what I'm assuming to be his bedroom. I am not too sure what is upstairs since I've never been there before, nor would I dare myself to visit it _now…_

… Or maybe I could? Maybe there's something in Alex's room that I can use against him in the future. _Yeah! _That's a great idea!

I haul myself out of the couch and fly off to run up the stairs, almost like an immature 11 year old child rather than a 20 year old adult. I couldn't help myself, though.

I reach the top and look around; yep, it is a bedroom that belongs to Alex. Surprisingly the fucker keeps it nice and clean, his clothes aren't on the floors and his bed was neatly made. I blink before coming closer to his bed, touching the light blue and white colored comforter with the brush of my two fingertips before taking a scan around the room. The walls were painted a very faint, light blue, and the floors were shiny wooden floors that didn't seem terribly expensive. That's when I see a door, which could lead to either a small bathroom or a closet. I slowly walk towards it, feeling my heart trying to burst out of my chest…

I have to do it, though. I want to know _everything _about my blond-haired friend. I clutch at the door handle and turn it before pulling it towards me to open, and I sneak over the side of the door to see what's inside.

It's a closet, filled with different clothing and shoes. That's when my eyes landed on a black box. I blink before crouching down to get it, my eyes never tearing off of it even as I close the door behind me. I look at this black box in my hand, all shiny and expensive looking, and I knew I had to open it. I slowly walk towards his bed, my eyes still fixating on the box in my hands, and I sit down on his bed before opening the lid off from the box. Inside, lays a book. For a moment there, I thought it was a small bible book, but it wasn't. I gingerly take it out of the box, flipping it over and back again. It was just a simple black book, soft and made out of cheap imitation leather. I place the box on the bed beside me before opening the book to the first several pages, before a certain date caught my eye. December 19. I read the page:

_December 19. I ran into an old friend. His name is Peter Rabbit. He has this lovely lovely wife on his arm. She was a real beaut, kind of ditzy in a way, but never the less attractive. She made fun of the nadsat language I speak while I was conversing with Pete, but I know better than to start a fight with her. Pete looked good tonight. He grew taller, gained a bit of weight so that he looked normal and not a walking-talking stick. Poor fella. I have to be honest, I was jealous when I saw those two together. I was jealous of his happiness, of his success and new life. I leave this entry with a note for tomorrow: Find a wife for my own. Until then – Alex._

I close the book, place it in the black box, place the lid over it and put it back into the closet again. I walk down the stairs, determine to read more of his entries later. How delightful that I've found it! Now I have something to use against him. I'll have to read his ancient entries; who know what he wrote in there! Maybe his entries have gone as far as our high school days? Has he written a lot about me?

I suddenly feel oddly giddy at that thought. I'd rather be teased, be abused, be written about me in a creepy manner in a journal, more than being ignored by the all powerful Alexander DeLarge.

* * *

><p>All the chores were done, and by 4:30 PM, I start to prepare dinner. I decide to make beef stew for tonight. Everything was done and ready by 5:30 PM, so I let the fire run underneath the soup pot at a lower volume to keep it nice and hot until Alex came home. In the mean time, I set the table up painstakingly slow for some reason before going downstairs to the basement. I made my bed quickly before heading right back up. I want everything to be perfect. Don't ask me why.<p>

I visit the half-bathroom near the kitchen to fix up my hair a little bit. I splash some cool water in my face to wake myself up, and then wash my hands.

That's when I hear the door open and close. My heart does a little dance with my stomach before I come out of the half-bathroom to see Alex kicking off his oxford shoes and placing his suitcase down on the floor.

I slowly walked up towards him with my arms crossed, "Had a long day?"

He didn't answer as he places his shoes together, at least at first, but then he nods without even looking at me, "Mm-hmm."

"I made beef stew tonight. You told me you like beef stew in high school."

"Grand."

I watch him, him finally straightening himself up to smirk at me. God, he kills me.

"You seem to remember everything about me, Pete," he shakes his head with the same smirk on his face, "I'm touched. Let's eat."

And so we did, in silence this time again. It wasn't the kind of awkward and heavy silence like this morning though, but more of the comfortable kind that very close friends share. He would enjoy his bowl before flicking his eyes at me with a smirk, and I would let my eyes gently drop down with a little smile. I guess we're good again, and forgotten about our fight from earlier today.

* * *

><p>After dinner, we watch some television together, just like an old married couple would do after eating, before Alex announces that it was time to hit the bed. I stretch on the couch, making a satisfied sound in my throat, before I feel somebody's face near the side of my own. I open my eyes and turn to see Alex staring into my face, with this strange expression on his face that I've never seen before. He almost look somewhat desperate, like he wants to tell me something but can't find the exact words.<p>

"What is it?" I whisper gently to him.

He pauses, staring into my eyes, his expression still desperate. I frown at him confusingly, and he finally weakly whispers, "I don't want to be alone."

I look at him, his face and hair tinted in bright blue from the television playing in front of us. I hesitate before whispering, "W-what do you mean by that?"

He looks down, appearing sad, "You know what I mean, Pete. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to _die alone_. I'd do anything for a wife, for a son, for a normal life. But it's hard to change my old ways…"

Silence. I want to reach out and give him a brotherly hug, but I still fear him a little bit. I mean, the man did punched me between the thighs, right?

I look at him with compassion before whispering, "I'll be right here, Alex. No matter what. We've shared too much to separate now. You're my best friend."

He keeps his eyes downward for a moment before looking up at me, and I smile at him. He hesitates before smiling a little in return.

He straightens up proudly again and says, "You're coming upstairs to my bed tonight, Pete. You were kind to me all day and sleeping in the basement would be terrible for you. Tonight would bring a lot of blizzard, so the basement would be freezing by then. Come up, now, I am very tired!"

I get up from the couch before turning off the television set. I follow Alex upstairs and we get on top of his queen size bed, and I immediately felt super warm underneath all the blankets he has hidden from me when I slept like an animal last night.

We said nothing and Alex slowly doze off to sleep. For some reason, readers, I don't know what I had in me to do what I'm going to do, but once I saw Alex turning around from me, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and nuzzle my face against his wavy hair. Perhaps it was the winter bitter coldness that prompted me to do it. Maybe it was overwhelming sense of duty of wanting to protect my dangerous (and fragile) best friend. Whatever it was, I am surprise to only hear Alex mewling very faintly before he falls asleep rather than getting up to brutally murder me for daring myself to even touch him. We had so many sleep overs together during our gang days, mainly me sleeping over at his place, so our small beds usually made us grab a hold on each other out of fear of accidentally pushing the other one off the bed.

This is normal… us being like this. And I don't care what any of you have to say about it.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! I've decided to add another short chapter, because from today all the way to December 16 (or 17), I'm going to be extremely busy doing projects and studying for the finals at my college. My semester will officially end on December 10__th__, and then on the 12__th__ to I'm assuming the 16__th__ or 17__th__ I'll be taking the tests. So after those are done, I'll be free again to update this story for you guys. So I hope this little chapter will quench your thirst until then! Enjoy!_

Chapter 9

The faint sound of birds chirping outside along with the warmth of the morning's sun gently stirs me awake, and my eyes flutter open with a groan. The first thing I see once my eyes opened was the light blue walls of Alex's bedroom. I slowly sit up and rub my face with my one hand while the other one moves the blanket out of my lap.

Last night, I dreamt of Georgina. She was drowning in our bathtub for some reason, and I tried to grab a hold of her wrists to haul her up, but my hands wouldn't move on my mental command. In the dream, I had a horrible feeling that someone else was in the dream, but couldn't place on my finger as to who it might be. All I know is, the same feeling come bubbling back into my stomach once I see Alex putting on his white cotton t-shirt.

I sit back so that my head meets the headboard of the bed before I clear my throat at him. Alex casually turns his head around and smiles at me, "Morning, morning, brother!"

"Right back at you," I reply, looking at the sleeve of my silky bathrobe that Alex gave me the other night after he abducted me and entrapped me in his basement, "What's today?"

"Oh, it's Saturday, Pete. I was thinking you will give me some tips on how to lovet meself a zheena today," he pauses before bending on his knees to pull on the hems of his gray track sweatpants to pull them up over his hips, "I sure hope you don't rassoodock."

I blink. You know, when I think about it, Alex could sure use a girlfriend of his own. I can only hope that, by finding him a soul mate, he'll finally set me free to go back home.

"Alex, of course I'll help you," I beam, "I'll do whatever it takes to find you a wife. By the way, I just realized you started talking in Nadsat since yesterday. What's up with that?"

"Oh, it's this," Alex turns around to face me, "veshch I have with lewdies. When I'm bezoomny with like them, I just don't govoreet to them in Nadsat. I used to govoreet in Nadsat all the raz even when I'm razdraz, but now I don't. This makes lewdies aware how pissed off I am at them."

"You were mad at me?" I innocently inquire, finally getting out of bed to stretch, "Is it about the pillow in your face thing?"

"Yeah. It really made me razdraz, Pete."

"I'm sorry."

"Appy polly loggy accepted, bratty. Let's itty downstairs so you'll prepare breakfast. I am in the mood for some English muffins, if you don't mind!"

I watch after him as he walks out of the bedroom before following him with a mumble, "Sure."

* * *

><p>I made English muffins with honey drizzled over them, along with bacon, sliced fruits, and cottage cheese. We eat while I read the morning paper, when I suddenly gasp in pleasant surprise. Alex looks up at me with a puzzled frown.<p>

I flip the newspaper page to show him the title that reads, "Speed Dating – Open at The Dove Café on January 5th!"

Alex shrugs, "Yes, what about it?"

I growl at him. He smirks.

"Speed dating, Alex. You meet plenty of people, going on a lot of time-constraint dates, as quickly as possible. By the end of the night, you'll find at least one lovely lady suitable for you!"

"Alrighty then," Alex says, take a forkful of fruit before shoving it in his mouth, "I'll viddy to that."

"It's twelve days away from today, Alex. We'll have plenty of time for me to teach you all about the correct way in how to treat a lady well so that she'll stick to you like glue. I promise you that, friend."

He sneers, "Oh! I know exactly how to govoreet to the damas, Pete. I hate to remind you this, but I've had plenty of partners and sex more so than you did."

Now I just want to throw my hot coffee at his face. But I resisted. Patience is a virtue, and if I can help him out with this, I'll be home soon with Georgina…

Then it hit me. Today is December 24th. It's Christmas Eve today, and I'm not home with her. Oh god. Georgina is probably already calling the cops, frantically searching for me. I can't believe this… I can't believe I'm under hostage of Alex. Maybe if I can just ask his permission…

"Alex?"

"Yes, Pete?"

"It's Christmas Eve today. Georgina is… all alone in our apartment. And I'm here."

Silence. I sit and stare into Alex's eyes, hoping my sad grayish-blues will convince him to at least let me spend time with Georgina.

He studies me for a bit before curtly replying, "No."

My heart stopped. No?

"N-no?" I quiver. I can feel myself shaking in rage.

He looks down solemnly, "I'm sorry, but no. You belong to me until I find someone, a cheena in that regard, to replace you. I hope you under—"

I storm out of my chair abruptly, so hard and fast the chair dropped to the floor with a loud bang. I slam my hands on the kitchen table before leaning my face into his, **"No, I don't understand! Help me **_**fucking**_** understand!"**

Alex's eyes widen just a little bit, but otherwise, he kept his cool. I can feel my face literally changing colors in varieties of purple and red as I breathe hard and shallow.

"Pete, I already explained this before to you. Do you not remember? I need you, Pete. You have everything I want, and I need your help for me to have your lifestyle. You also realize I did it because I was simply jealous of you and Georgina… It's just too weird viddying my starry droog getting bezoomny with like a cheena like that."

"_A woman like that?"_ I shrill, clutching the kitchen cloth until my knuckles turned white, _"And you're still fucking jealous of Georgina? What the fuck is wrong with you, god dammit!"_

Alex moves back so that he can place the chair further away from my screaming face, "Pete, calm down. Very soon, you'll be free, and I won't bother you again."

I choke up tears, still shrilling, _"You're damn right you won't bother me again! Because after this shit is over, I never want to see you again!"_

I swipe my hand against his coffee mug, sending it to the floor, breaking it in the process. I storm over to the door that leads to the basement before turning around to face a surprised Alex standing a couple of feet away from me, "Don't try and bother me, Alex. I want to be alone today."

"Pete—"

I already swung the door closed before traveling down the small set of stairs that leads to the cold, cold basement. I lay down on my mattress before crying.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I sobbed into my pillow. Melodramatic? Maybe. Crestfallen? You bet your ass I am.

All I could ask is why this is happening to me.


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey guys! I know it's been a while, but I finally have the time (and willpower, lol!) to give you all the 10__th__ chapter of THE CLOCKWORK HOSTAGE. Enjoy and hope you had a great Christmas! It's a chapter that will capture this holiday's season scenery. I'll work on the 11__th__ chapter (and hopefully post it by then) this upcoming Wednesday, so hang on tight till then! ;)_

_**IMPORTANT: In chapters 5 and 8, I totally mixed things up with what happened with Georgie. If you go back to chapter 5, I implied that he died during the last gang stunt with Dim and Pete. But then in chapter 8, I implied that he and Dim simply decided to become cops instead of Georgie being murdered. So, I decided to keep what happened to Georgie in chapter 8, where he and Dim decided to "grow up" and became cops. So please ignore what happened in chapter 5 about Georgie. Thanks!**_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

Sleeping while you're angry is always strange. You feel like you're in a nightmare before your head hits the pillow and you just want it all to end. The transition from being awake to falling asleep while you're angry… it's like going into a smog of dark red and gray clouds, confusing you and letting you fall into a state of humming silence. You might have a dream, or a nightmare of some sort, but once you're asleep while angry, readers, you can't help but feel _calm. _Sleep to me, is a cure of my depression; of my desperation in my hostage situation. I fell into a dreamless, breathless sleep, feeling my inner subconscious mind elevating from the entire world around me…

Then I woke up. For a moment or so, I felt too afraid to let out a breath. Then I remember that I'm alone in the basement, and so I sigh with a shiver.

I slowly sit up, and all I can see is the basement being illuminated by an orange light from the outside. Is it evening now? Or a bright early morning from yesterday's nasty fight? I croak out in anger at remembering that; How is it that I haven't hit Alex in the face yet after everything he put me through?

_Stupid Pete. You never stand up for yourself, do you?_

I stretch before getting out of the bed, making my pathetic self haul up the small staircase until I reach the door to the kitchen. I _really _don't want to see Alex, but I am starving. That's another strange thing about falling asleep angry. You wake up starving to death and wanting to eat everything in sight.

I open the door just a tiny bit, just enough so that I can take a peak outside. The kitchen is empty, and the living room right next to it is as well. I open the door wider so that I can make myself go through, when I feel my toe gently hitting against something. I let my head drop and find myself staring at a festively decorated present, wrapped up in a metallic light blue wrapping with a bright red bow on top. What in the actual fuck is this shit?

I gingerly close the door behind me before bending down and wrapping my arms around my knees to stare at this present. I study how the lights and imagery of the room- The walls, the clock hanging on one of them, the sunlight shining through the kitchen's window-all reflected on the metallic present wrapping. Who is this for? And who is it from?

I tilt my head to the side and see a message written in black marker on the side of the present that reads, _To Pete from Alex._

For some reason, readers, the anger simmers right back up. I let myself drop completely so that my behind rests comfortably on the floor and my head on the wall behind me before I grab the present with much rage. I rip the wrappings into shreds, my heart banging like steel drums, just _begging _what Alex got for me on Christmas day. So I guess it is morning as of now, Christmas morning on top of it. And I couldn't fucking see Georgina and her sweet face. How tragic. How heartless. How cruel, I know so…

So now all that's left is a white box, similar to a large shoe box. My breath catches in my throat, and I slowly, carefully, painfully-lift the box off to see what's inside. And in it, my readers and friends, is something that melted my heart immediately as my eyes rests upon it…

It's a hat. But not just any old hat, readers, but a hat that is more sophisticated than that bloody French beret that Alex forced me to wear during our gang days. The material felt smooth, expensive, beautiful and left me feeling rich beyond my imagination. The color is a steep black color, majestic and almost magical in a way.

It's _his _hat. And he gave it to _me_.

Okay, so you're probably confused as to why I'm getting so emotional over this. There's a story behind my reaction, readers, so hang onto your pants before you start criticizing me. It all started when I first saw Alex's old nemesis from his corrective school, which was fat boy Billyboy and his ugly friends. Goddamn, were they ugly- All dirty and smelly and stinking rotten hooligans with mouths so dirty it made me sick to my stomach. Black, holed up teeth. Greasy faces and messy hair. Alex didn't like them then, and I sure felt the same. I still do, if I am ever to see them again.

Alright, it went like this. I was still the shiny new toy in Alex's gang, and we were strolling around on a Saturday night, you know, just pissing around like fourteen year old boys would do. We were enjoying the grand sight of the moon in the night sky, and we were hanging out in the Flatblock Marina that fateful day. Alex was lying down near the river, whistling at the sky while Dim and Georgie were play-fighting with each other. And I, being the introverted little _malchick _that I was, was sitting cross-legged near Alex and watch him as he watches the night skies above him…

"_Make a wish, now!" Alex says with a mischievous glint in his icy-blue eyes, "It's eleven-eleven o'clock. Make thy wish straight from your precious heart, I say!"_

_I look up with a closed smile, and feeling giddy, I close my eyes and say, "I wish—"_

"_Don't govoreet it now, brother! Just do it in the gulliver!" Alex barks, leaving me to sigh a little before doing what he said. I am certain that my wish is a pretty stupid one, but it's a wish never the less that I hope will come true._

_So all is quiet in the Flatblock Marina, with Georgie and Dim now sitting a couple of feet away from us to chit-chat amongst themselves, every once in a while to take a suspicious peek at me now and again. Can't blame them, you see; I'm new. I could tell on all of them to the "rozzes" and have them properly put to jail for a very long time. I would give them an awkward little smile, only so they can continue on with their hard gazes at me. "Twat" I hear one of them mutter, and I quickly turn away to hide my embarrassment._

_A few seconds pass us until we hear a rowdy gang from the distance. Alex immediately sits up and turns his head around from behind and we all look towards his direction until we see the group gathering near us. The stench of cheap booze and strong cigarettes soon hit my sinuses, and I scrunch my nose in disgust before wrapping my arms around my knees out of habit._

"_Well, malchicks! Look who we have here! Bunch of fags we got in 'ere!" This amazingly fat, ugly boy announces, his face blackened with dirt and his teeth all yellow and rotting. His long raven hair hang around his sweaty face, and the rest of his gang sorrounds us all while laughing like gorillas._

_Alex smoothly stands up before giving the fat boy a smirk, "Welly welly well! Could my glazzies deceive me, for it isn't fatboy billygoat Billyboy! Your em kicked you out of her domy, I pray not?_

_Billyboy stops his laughing immediately, scowling at my blond leader instead, "Watch that pretty malenky rot, Little Alex! We may not have enough raz nor chances to drat like chellovecks in our corrective skolliwoll, but we ain't got's no teachers hanging around us, eh? Now it's just me and you to settle the score, yes? Lest you want to run and hide like the faggot that you truly are!"_

"_No bother!" Alex boldly answers right back, sliding his small knife out of his cane, "You and I want to drat, yes? Then let's do it so, bratty. Let us drat like the Romans have done past, and let out our roaring rage against each other! Let us drat like two lions, to finally be king of this jungle! Your move, Billyboy!"_

"_You son of a-!" Billy charges right towards Alex, but my eyes could not make sense at that moment. In that moment, Alex moved his arm so fast, I could have sworn he was not from this planet, my readers and dear friends. His swift, smooth move earned Billyboy a screech and his body hitting the floor, boo-hoo'ing like a baby while holding his bleeding chest with his chubby fingers. Immediately, his friends bend down to try and help him, but Billyboy only growled and slapped their hands away from him. I could already tell he isn't a fan of being touched by others…_

_One of Billyboy's friends looked at Alex with the kind of venom in his eyes that could only belong to a dangerous snake, and his face scrunched up in anger, real ugly if you presume. He looks sort of stupid, only because he tries so hard to look scary, yet his awkward mustache made him look like a try-hard father of some crazy trashy girl living in a trailer park. Regardless, I took it seriously and grabbed at my cane before hitting him right in the face before he takes the first step lunging towards Alex._

_Both of the group fell silent. Billyboy, in all of his high cholesterol glory (sorry), looked at his friend on the ground with a bloody mouth and nose with a shocked expression on his face._

"_Get me out of here! And help Ricky up!" Billyboy screeched, and all of his friends scurried about helping these two poor fellas off the ground before scamping off with their tails between their legs. I guess they couldn't handle us, being so fast and smart for their liking, and decided to call off the fight bright and early before someone in their tight knit group dies. Heaven forbid, especially for that big-as-a-brick-house Billy._

_The night atmosphere around us fell quiet for a few moments, before Alex comes up from my side to slap his bowler hat right on top of my head after he swiped the beret out first. The clean smell of his shampoo lingers in the bowler hat, and I smile. I turn to him and he smirks._

"_From now on, brother," he speaks in a smooth voice, "You'll be my second in command. My right hand, if you will. Your bravery impressed me tonight, Peter Rabbit… and so, my respect for you has extended."_

_My eyes flickers over to Georgie and Dim, who for some reason looked at me with soft expressions, as if in awe of what I just did. They, too, came up to me before laying a hand on my shoulder, whispering "Good job" and "Brave lad, aren't ya?" to me._

_I fit right in like the perfect piece to Alex's puzzle, and he looks at us all with satisfaction. His group is now complete. I smile a little at him, his shampoo from his hat still surrounding me all around._

I place the hat on top of my head, and I stand up to check where Alex might have gone. I could just check to see his room, just to tell him thanks. I go up the flight of stairs before reaching his bedroom door, softly knocking on his door.

"Alex?" I inquire through the door, "Are you awake?"

Nothing. I try again with the knockings, a bit louder this time, "Alex? Alex!"

I hear something, a metallic groan of some sort. It might have been the bed after Alex got off from it. I patiently wait for a moment before the door creaks open, and I see Alex's tired, frowning face. For some reason, I feel very giddy once I see his squinting blue eyes, "Alex… Can I come in?"

He didn't respond, but opened the door for me, miraculously. I take a step in, letting Alex close the door behind me, and I couldn't help but do the most questionable thing in the world, readers- I wrap my arms around him before whispering, "Merry Christmas, brother!"

He groans annoyingly so, "Pete, its sunrise right now, I don't need you slobbering all over me!"

I only squeeze tighter, nuzzling my face into his neck, "Don't matter, now! You gave me the best present a friend could ever give a friend… a piece of memory of the distant past that we shared. That's too nice of you, Alex!"

"Well, I'm real _fucking _glad you appreciated it," Alex grabs a hold of my shoulders before pushing them a bit back so that my eyes can look into his angry ones, "But I'm tired and need some rest. Do you mind?"

I shake my head no with a smile, and I unlock my arms from around him so that I can open his bedroom door to get out.

"Pete."

I stop, turning my head over my shoulder to see Alex looking at the bowler hat on my head with a solemn expression. He stares at it for a while before looking into my eyes with a smirk.

"You look much better in it than I will ever be. I mean that."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It is now 6:32 AM in the morning after I walked down the stairs from Alex's bedroom, and I decide to take a quick nap. I plop down on the couch in the living room, my head resting upon one of the small pillows, and as quickly as I shut my eyes, I went to sleep.

…

_After getting all hyped up from the drencroms in our kinfy ol' moloko plus, we headed out from the Korova Milkbar to start our nights of ultra-violence real horrorshow. I stuck by Alex's side throughout our venturing through the streets and past the clubs, while Dim and Georgie let themselves go by howling at the passing attractive damas that try to ignore our frightening presences. Alex's words have a way of getting to me; his talks of getting back at the female gender for abusing me and what not. I couldn't help but glare at the passing girls that would walk past us before I screech, "Harlots of the nochy, aren't 'cha? Come with us and let us ravage your plotts, worthless bitches!"_

_I had a few who would quickly scurry past me in fear. I have since perfected my Nadsat language and it has proven itself to scare the daylights out of anyone away from me when I speak it's language with a harden tone of voice. Some of them were brave, though, and would yell at me to my face. "Oh ye? And who the bloody __**fuck **__are you?" One redhead would say, making her other two female companions giggle behind their hands._

"_Your only chance at happiness," I would simply state, "Too baddiwad you're a worthless lomtick of cal that I wouldn't want to waste my raz on."_

_Moloko plus has a way of getting you to behave like this. I am living proof of it._

_In a swift second, the redhead raises her hand to prepare the big slap across my face. But Alex sure stopped her before she did, "Hold thyself, malenky devotchka! You really ought to not do that to Sir Alex's droogs," he got real dangerously close to her makeup-plastered face with a growl, "He's very protective of them, you know…"_

_Georgie and Dim tried their way of flirting with the shocked redhead's other two lady friends, but they would just half assedly ignore them, with a few giggles in between while they playfully pushed Dim and Georgie away from them. Here I am, ignored once more, so I just turned around and kept on walking, slowly so that if my friends decided to look for me, that it won't be too difficult to._

_So I walked alone in the street, taking in the night air all around me, and everywhere I look, I see beggars and stupid, rotten night people. The night people, drunk with booze and the burning desire to have some fun, would catch the sight of me and go howling in the night, "Oy! Bloody hell is that? Oh shit, it's a gang-banger! Don't look at 'im in the eye!" before scurrying away from me. It's so funny how my life is turning out; I was once the short, shy guy who all the other guys pushed around during school hours, and now they stay the hell away from me. Good riddance._

_During school hours, Alex had a way of protecting me. He would take his classes in this one wing hallway that is considered the "corrective school" area that is nearby my normal classes. Every time a class period would end, we would have about several minutes in between for us to catch up near my locker. Boy, did I had everyone caught up in a storm the first time Alex came to my locker; Why is Alexander B. DeLarge, the most popular and handsome guy in the school, talking to Peter Tarn of all people?_

_After everybody knew about us being great friends, all the jock players who would poke fun at me during classes suddenly backed off. It was surreal, but I can't complain. I'm happy that I finally feel safe and even respected, even if it's because I have Alex on my side._

_I walk near this bridge's underpass, when I heard a loud voice howling in the night air with terrible drunken singing, "Ohhhhh sayyyyy, can you seeeeee!"_

_I squint my eyes into the darkness of the underpass, and see an old, drunk street bum lying down with a bottle of beer in his hand. There he goes, singing the National Anthem of a country far far away from here, and I can't help but giggle silently to myself. The moloko plus kicked into my blood stream, and all I wanted to do now, readers, is to kick this scamp right into his face. So I turned around and run back to my gang, to tell them about our next "victim"._

_Before I reach there, the group of harlots was gone and it is just Alex with the other two gang members. They are chatting amongst themselves before I quietly reach them, and Dim's face brightens up immediately at my arrival, "Pete! How goes it? Where'dya ittied, droog?"_

"_Trying to find a girlfriend, perhaps?" Georgie quips, crossing his arms across his chest. Alex looks at me with a smirk._

"_Did you sloochat to find our next ATM?" Alex asks me, swinging his sword cane absent-mindedly out of boredom, "We need some cutter to kupet ourselves another round of moloko plus, you know."_

"_Yes, I know so," I reply to him, "I just sloochatted to gooly upon this street scamp underneath this bridge nearby. He's all pyahnitsa and gloopy, you know, real starry and useless. But he surely has some cutter in his grahzny carman, no guess of mine. Probably from all the begging earlier today. So we ought to pay him a visit, right right right?"_

_Alex nods at me with approval, "Yes yes yes, I agree with you, Peter Rabbit. Well, gang, we must visit this worthless scamp and get his pretty polly outta him."_

_We all nod in agreement before scurrying back to the next few blocks to visit our victim._

…

"Wake up!" I hear a whisper.

I groan a little before opening my eyes to see Alex about a few centimeters close to my face, with wide blue eyes and a small smile. _Too close._ I scrunch my face in discomfort before laying an arm in front of my face, prompting Alex to lean away from me to avoid getting accidentally punched in the face.

"Wake up, Pete! It's 10:00 AM now! Merry Christmas and all that cal!" Alex hopped off from me to turn on the telly, where I can hear the electronic buzz and the chatter of the morning news channel. I groan even louder before letting my arm lay limp beside me, over the edge of the couch, and I open my tired eyes to the television set. _Yup! It's the fucking news, alright!_

"You woke me up from a great dream," I mumble, my eyes darting to Alex's general direction, "What's for breakfast?"

Alex smiles solemnly for a moment before leaning close to my face again, "You viddying Georgina."

I sit up abruptly right when he said her name, and I take a forceful grab at his shoulders and whisper to him, "What did you _say?_"

Alex chuckles underneath his throat, as if happy that he's making me react this way, "I knew you'd be surprised. I was in my bedroom last nochy, thinking about our last drat together. It did made me realize how selfish I truly was, and viddying you all like unhappy and such made me want to make it all better. So, I got up feeling all antsy and made you that present. In the midst of it, I got thinking, wait a minoota! Besides this shlapa, what else would Pete want most out of anything in the world by Christmas morning?

So I messel about it for a few moments before I realized that you wanted to viddy your dama for Christmas morning, O my brother. I swallowed my pride and agreed with the notion, so Pete, I soviet you to viddy your dama. But only for today, for I want you back here tomorrow nochy. Do I make thyself clarity clear, starry droog?"

Tears spike my bluish-grays before I attacked my Master and Leader's body with full force, "I… I… I am so thankful! I don't know what's gotten into you, but… b-but I'm so, so happy right now!"

I couldn't help myself, readers; I couldn't help but weep tears of joy in Alex's arms while he casually slips his own arms around me. It's really funny how kind of skinny he looks on the outside, but is actually quite physically strong on the inside. He holds me in and I couldn't help but feel secure, safe and warm. His embrace felt strong yet non-suffocating. I'm on top of the world right now…

…

I lightly knock on the door of my home, with the feelings of butterflies flying in my stomach strong as always.

I'm home. I'm _home! _I'm right here in front of the small flat that is my home. I couldn't believe it. How long have I been away from here? Three days, four perhaps? It feels like three to four fucking years since I've been here. It's amazing what trauma can do to you; time just stands still.

Never the less, the door swings open and I see a pair of weeping dark brown eyes, and I smile wildly at her.

"Pete!"

She devours me into her embrace in a quick, swift movement of wrapping her slender arms around my neck, sobbing and heaving into my shoulder. I almost want to cry at the sight of my precious wife like this, but God knows I can't do that to her after what I put her through these past few days of being like, away and out of her sight, readers. So I stand there, strong in spirits and hold her as she weeps.

"I'm home," I whisper, kissing the top of her hair, my voice breaking, "I'm home, sweetie, I'm right here…"

Some of the best things in life, unfortunately, do not last long. I'll have to break her heart once again when I have to go back to my blue eyed nightmare.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Love is poison._

In my slender arms, I have them wrapped around the love of my life. Her deep, dark, scarlet red hair shimmered in the morning's glorious light, and I stare at it in awe as it fades from dim to light, as the sun from the outside travels from one cloud to another. The air in our apartment smells of fresheners and sugar cookies, and my eyes flutter closed as I take a deep breath to take it all in.

Love is poison.

"Sweet, sweet merciful Jesus," I hear her whisper in a hoarse voice, "I thought I'd never see you again."

I open my eyes to look down at her, and she has her head up to stare deep into my eyes, her doe peepers heavily lashed and beautiful. I smile at her gently.

"No need to worry, my dearly beloved," I whisper to her, leaning down to give a gentle little kiss on her smooth lips, "All that matters is that I'm home. Just in time for Christmas morning, sweetheart… Don't question it."

Poor Georgina, I knew I shouldn't have told her that, but such things must be said if I want her to stay calm. I know by now that all she wants to do is cry, cry, and cry some more, but the man in me doesn't want nor need that right now. I just want her to be happy again, and so I got up with my arms still wrapped around her waist to give her a passionate kiss.

We stay like that for a moment before breaking away, and I smile at her, "I hope you at least had an alright Christmas Eve without me."

She shakes her head with pursed lips, "Not at all, my dear. Without you around last night… I was crying my eyes out and… I just didn't felt so happy. It was the worst Christmas Eve in my entire life."

Poor Georgina. Love is poison.

"I'm here, heart and soul. I'm right here. That's all that matters right now." I give her a quick peck on her forehead before we both head out into the kitchen to eat what's left of the sugar cookies.

…

After Georgina and I had coffee with the sugar cookies, I was demanded by her to take a shower and to relax in our bedroom. I did, and after those errands, I plopped down in the feathery soft bed that is of my and Georgina's. Her scent is still heavy on her pillow as I rub my face vigorously in it out of physical and emotional exhaustion.

I wonder what Alex is doing right now. Is he perhaps doing any missing work from his job right now during Christmas day? How dreadful. I could never do such a thing like that during a major holiday. I have perhaps already explained you this, my readers, but in case I haven't… Alex works as a full time detective in the state government's office. He does work for homicides and such, and I couldn't think of a better job for that guy. He must be paid quite handsomely, because his home is such a lovely little house while I was held hostage in there for the past few days. Although I could imagine that he's still saving up to redecorate the house, I still find it impressive for someone as young and as impulsive as Alex could ever own such a beautiful home.

Speaking of his house… Before Alex let me go, he told me that he was going out to the park to flirt with some ladies over there, just as a final attempt to catch a wife before he gives up for this year. After he left, I don't know why, but I immediately rushed upstairs to his bedroom. I got into his closet, found the small box on the floor, opened it and retrieved his journal. I know what you're thinking. I must be either a downright fucking fool, or just plain ol' suicidal…

But can you blame me for wanting to learn so much about such a charismatic persona?

So I took it, ran like hell back downstairs, took my clothing to put it on, and fast forward to me in front of my apartment complex… and now I'm here, in my own bed, with the leather-imitation bound book beside me.

I lean on my elbow before opening the book, going right to the first page. The date on the top reads "March 25, 2046", and right below that is a little drawing of a dinosaur, all childish and sloppy. I let my eyes fall below the drawing, and I begin to read the ink letterings on the page:

_My parents and I moved to the Flat Block 18-A Linear North apartment complex, and did I really get quite the earful from mum and dad. My mother and my father moved us from London because I was behaving like a rotten, rotten little boy, bullying other little boys and making the little girls cry all boo-hoo-hoo. I was sent to the principal's office far too many times to count on all of my little hands and feet, and so one day, I was sent home from school and was never sent back there again. I was very confused as to why, and then my father explained to me that I was expelled from the school. Then he slapped me right across the face._

_Because we couldn't find another suitable school for me, we packed up our belongings and moved to a more rundown, cheaper place to reside, where we all know that the terrible school systems on this side of the train track would happily accept a delinquent like me. They were very eager to work things out with me and my parents, and it was so funny to watch them going on and on and on about "Fixing the future's children" and "Making sure Alex gets his A's and B's". They never knew what hit them, but already after a couple of days of attending their school, I have already succeeded in like giving one of the younger male student a swirly in the bathroom stall. I had so much fun that day, journal, he was throwing up and the blood rush from being hung upside down came straight out of his nose. The sight of tears and blood almost gave me a funny feeling down there… I don't think I want to even write about it, but I was pretty scared when it happened. That day, I just knew I wasn't normal like all the other little children._

I stop reading and scrunch my face a little in disgust. Judging by the date of this entry, Alex must have been about eight years old at the time when he wrote this. Which it could only mean one thing; it would have been an entire year before our lives collided in the school, him being nine and me being ten. You know, it's funny, really. He's younger than me by several months, but I'm so much weaker and almost feminine in contrast to him. Maybe he has a Napoleon syndrome, him being kind of short and very young at that, but in a way I am very envious of his powerful aura.

I turn my eyes to his next journal entry, with the date "April 25, 2046" written right on top of it.

_So today, journal, I started getting into knives and other sharp things. It's really strange how so many people are like, so very afraid of them. And yet to me, they are like work of arts. I managed to inflict it upon my very first victim, that being a street cat that I called "Mr. Fat Belly" before I… well, you know, cut him right open. It was so beautiful, him all opened up and his guts falling out. I'm not like other little children, journal… I think, today, and all those other days whenever I turn scary, proves that theory of mine all too well._

I turn to the next page. It was a short journal entry about how his mom screamed at him for taking all the cookies. Typical, mundane shit, you know. The next entry was about him receiving a D-minus on a math test. The next one, a few cut outs of magazine pictures of Beethoven and musical notes. That surprised me a little bit, but I always knew Alex in being a huge musical fan, so I trucked along onto the next entry. More mundane shit about school work, his therapy sessions, his parents, his lack of friendships, blah blah blah…

And then, my eyes widen. September 14, 2046.

_Today, I met this little boy. He was a bit older than me, but surprisingly smaller than me in size. He had really nice hair, kind of like mine but maybe more wavier. We were put together for a school project about different types of clouds. The science teacher, who really hates me by the way… Partnered me with this kid. He's really nice, if not sort of distant. I don't know what his issue is, but he acts like I'm really weird and stuff. It kind of sucks and it hurts. But hey, what's the worst that can happen? I don't want to hurt him for some reason… he's not like other little boys. He goes by Peter Tarn._

_So anyway… Peter is a really quiet kid. I mean, not everyone notices him, not like I do. After that science project, he pretty much just vanished from my life. Not like, OH HE'S NOT HERE ANYMORE WAHHHHHH… But like, I can see him in person, but he wouldn't even look at me in the eye. I try to respect his space, though… Maybe we can be friends later. I hope. I really do hope so, journal… I'm tired of being alone. I JUST WANT FRIENDS AHHHGHHH._

I can't help, my dear readers, but smirk a little bit at the capitalized words he wrote here. It's almost cute, endearing even. Knowing Alex in all of my time with him, he seemed to be the type that really tries to keep his anger to himself. I mean yeah, he blows up from time to time, but it's never for too long. He's very calm for a psychopath.

I read on. The next few pages contained mundane rants about his parents and therapists yet again. I kind of wondered what happened after he killed that street cat. Did he just do other violent things and forget to write them down? I mean, why does he even have this journal, anyway? I can't believe he kept this little book for so long… from nine years old all the way to eighteen. I keep shaking my head as I keep turning the pages, my eyes getting a little heavy out of boredom from all the boring journal entries…

.

.

.

.

.

.

That was when I saw the photographs.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

All I see is red.

Nothing but pure, violent, raging shades of red. I almost jump out of my skin, slapping the book out of the bed and gasping in painful fright. What the flying _fuck _was that I just saw? I almost checked myself, hoping I didn't suddenly go crazy, hoping that it wasn't just me…

But over the corner of the bed, on the carpet floor, my eyes haven't deceived me; it was photographs of real animal cruelty. Hearts. Lungs. Blood. Eyes wide open for the camera. Teeth.

Alex did this. He _hurt _those animals. He did this. I couldn't believe it.

My stomach growl at me with full force, and I slap a hand over my mouth to keep myself from throwing up. I have never seen so much violence in my life and in pictures no less. I could have start crying, if it weren't for having Georgina downstairs where she could hear me, so I decide to just man up and keep it in.

I crouch down on the floor to look at the photographs. Below these horrendous pictures were Alex's captions in pen, stating the time and date of when he did them. One of them was from when he was thirteen; another was when he was around the age where we started our gang and another one after he got out of that Ludovico Treatment shenanigan.

He will never change, will he?

I close the leather imitation book before wrapping my arms around my knees to cry silently to myself.

…

"Georgina, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

There we were that evening, sitting together at the kitchen table eating the supper that Georgina have slaved over herself making it for us. She places her fork down, creating a silvery shriek against the china plate and her eyes peers down to the bottom of my soul curiously. I take a deep breath.

"What is it, dear?"

I hesitate, "It's… It's about why I was missing…"

There is a screaming silence that envelope the entire room, and it made my skin form those icky, yucky goose bumps.

"You… You know why?" She chokes up, her eyes reddening from the tears.

"Yes. I knew who took me in. I knew who put me under hostage. I know everything, Georgina… I just—"

"—_Just what?"_

"I just don't need you to go to the police about it, that's all. I need you to keep this as a secret. Between us two, I mean."

"How could you even make such an absurd suggestion, Peter?" she whispers in horror, standing up from her seat, "How _could you?_"

"Just listen to me, Georgina. This is extremely hard for me, too."

She finally sits down and stares sadly at her food before whispering, "Just tell me. Just tell me what happened…"

I place my hand over my chin to ponder on how I'm going to begin this, but I knew I haven't enough time before I have to go back to my Master and Leader soon. If I have to tell her, it'll have to be as soon as possible, like right now while we have the perfect time alone together.

"He took me in hostage, that man we saw at the café on the way to Greg's party. Do you remember?"

She looks at me with wide, wet eyes. I could literally see the tears dampening her eyelashes, resembling like watery snow slipping off from the tree branches on a cold Winter morning.

"It was him. Alex. Alexander DeLarge." I finally whisper in broken sentences, whimpering at the end out of what her reaction will be.

Surprisingly, she doesn't yell in horror or anything of that sort.

I watch too many stupid movies. I know.

"That… That guy in that treatment?" She speaks in a low tone to herself, her head nodding in a queer way. I could see her hands clutching at the table cloth.

"Yes. Him."

She makes a gasping sound with her mouth before hiding her face with her thin hands, her shoulders heaving up and down as she cries. I almost want to kick myself for doing this to her, but in the end, it's necessary. She has to know, at least from me and not from anybody else… at least she can trust my word and not call the rozzes on Alex.

Because, despite everything, he's still my fucking friend.

"Georgina, I have to go back to him tomorrow night."

"No you don't!" she groans in her hands, still crying.

"_Yes,_ I do," I almost growl at her, instantly regretting it since it only made her cry harder, "If I don't, he'll do things you wouldn't like. _Things_ _that will haunt you for the rest of your life._ I know him, Georgina, so don't test him."

She slaps her hands down on the table before shrieking, _"I'll fucking test him whenever I want! Watch me!"_

For once in the duration of our to-be-married relationship, I backed down from her. I have never seen her this hysterical before.

"If you leave me again, for that _son of a bitch, _Pete," she growls, her face fading to a shade of ruby, "Consider us over and done with. Do you hear me, Pete? Or do I have to smack you upside the head so that you can finally get it?"

I couldn't answer her at first, but then I barely whisper, "Why?"

"_Because he ruined our lives, and I can't take it anymore!"_

"So that warrants breaking up with me?" I choke up, the tears finally getting to me, "How can you make such a suggestion, Georgina? We've been together for all this time and I love you so much!"

"Apparently," her face scrunches in a very painful expression before she heaves out an angry whisper, "Not enough to stay with me."

She abruptly gets up to run her pretty little self up to her bedroom, and I sit there in the kitchen table, the silence that was once peaceful is now a painful scream that itches my eardrums…

The moment she slams the door, I scream into my hands.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I am not sure as to how long I've been crouching over myself in that desolate kitchen, heaving and bellowing in my hands, but after it was all over, after all the tears have finally been shed,I had successfully given myself a splitting migraine by doing all of that and more. I almost regretted it, really, but a human will do what a human will do when they're destroyed…

They cry.

"Oh god," I wail out in pain as I rub my temples with both of my hands, "Why-y-y me?"

Fuck crying. _Seriously._

Nobody answers me, of course. I sit there with my hands covering my eyes, the headache literally throbbing inside of my skull cap like a beastly heart. I stay like that in silence, for maybe a few minutes, or a few centuries, at least until the pain and throbbing dies down a little.

Despite my headache, it is no match for the pain that is happening to my heart; Did Georgina did what I think she did? Did she just dump me over what happened? Or is she just saying things out anger? I doubt she'd throw away our relationship so fast like this, due to our short yet intense months together as a couple…

_Maybe she found someone else._

I groan in my hands. No, that can't be it. How can she when all she does is go to the nearby building next to us to do her job as a typist? She doesn't seem like the cheating type, or the type to jump from man to man. She's so sweet, so innocent, so honest…

_Now you're just making excuses._

No way. Georgina's much too good to do that. She's a devout Christian, and she even manages to convert me to it way after Alex got into the Ludovico treatment. We went to church every single Sunday since then and the members there welcomed me with open arms despite knowing my deeply troubled past. That is something I could never find anywhere else, so naturally I stayed and participated in the services. Georgina goes to the Church of England since she was a wee little girl, so I doubt she would take the word of God in vain and cheat on me…

She's too good for that. Too good!

I slowly remove the hands from my face and immediately, I see a pair of blue eyes staring back at me…

Blue eyes. Pale skin. Wavy blonde hair.

I jump out of my chair and I smack hard against the floor, my breath literally stolen away from me in an empty gasp. I land on my hip with all of my body weight, and I yelled out in anger and pain.

"**Alex!"** I screech out, **"What the **_**fuck**_**?"**

I scooch myself back until my shoulders and head reaches a wall behind me, and I begin to shake. _Why is he here?_

But like a thunderbolt, I immediately jump up to my feet to show my face to my life's greatest fear. Instead, I meet face to face with a reflection of my own image staring back at me in the form of a toaster.

It isn't him.

It's me.

My breathing stops at that thought and I lay my hands on the edge of the kitchen table, my eyes still staring at the silvery toaster. It's no mistake; I do look quite a bit like Alex, but not so much so at the same time. His eyes are much bluer than mines, and he's taller than me, stronger than me, louder than me… Okay, we're not exactly alike. But from a distance, it's kind of scary how we just are…

My eyes dawn down at a nearby clock that resembles an orange, and it reads in bright green, "4:30 AM", and I sigh deeply.

I was planning to stay here until I have to return to Alex tomorrow night, but… since I'm supposedly dumped by the love of my life, I just couldn't stomach staying here anymore. I quietly walk my way out of the kitchen and back to the living room, where on one side of it, I can dimly see the beginning of the stairways going upstairs to my bedroom. Well, Georgina's room, anyway. To the sweet angel that I was sure I was going to devote my entire life with.

There was no mistake, though. I _have_ to get that journal back.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The door creaks open. In my heart, it leaps in knowledgeable joy of knowing the fear of the dark that belongs to my ex lover. She has in her room, a night light that brings on a sweet, soft yellow glow in the dark, and I could already see the small black journal lying on the wooden floor.

So in I go, creeping like a cat in the room, careful not to add too much weight on my steps so as to not make a sound. Georgina is sleeping in her bed, her hair a matte mess, and I almost wanted to reach out to her and touch her face; but then my mind screeches no and I obeyed like a dog.

I crouch down slowly to retrieve the journal. _I have to get out of here, and fast._

The cheap leather imitation books sets plainly in my pale hand, and I get up to quietly shuffle out of the room, my breath empty and my eyes wet in tears. I'd do anything to stay here with Georgina, but she doesn't want me anymore. She doesn't want to see me, nor hear me anymore; not the sound of my heart next to her heart when we lay together, not the sight of my eyes boring into her own. She probably hates me now, and I choke a little at the thought, but it must be true…

"You deserve better," I whisper in the dark, right after I turn my back to the door of her bedroom, "Georgina love."

…

I'm home. Sort of.

After walking for a million miles in the bitter cold of England's harsh winter, I am set back to the nightmare that I thought I was able to get away from for at least a while, but life had other plans. The front exterior of the small house is that of white and brick, very plain and very clean. Next to the house is a row of other small houses, and on the other side of the house are black metal gates to keep the intruders out.

I fumble in my pocket to get the extra copy of the house key out to invite myself in. No doubt _he's _asleep still.

Good. I don't even want to fucking talk to him right now.

My anger explodes in a way that pushes all of my might to push myself into the door, thus creating a loud noise in the process. I turn around to close the door, humorously trying to make myself quiet this time, and I regret being such a cunt at this time of night.

"Goddammit," I hiss, slowly locking the door. Now, maybe it's my crazy imagination, but something in the air suddenly feels heavy and cold. Maybe the windows are open to let in the air from outside, but the feeling of cold is different in this… It feels like it's stealing the oxygen away from me. It feels like I have to let out some sweat to calm down. It feels like death…

"_You're home."_

I pause my breath, my knuckles fading to white.

In that moment, the air stood still.

I couldn't bear to turn myself to look at him. I knew I came home too early, and I knew I disobeyed him. I knew I had to face the punishment now, of the consequences caused by my own stupid actions. We were quiet for a while, and I couldn't even let out a huff of breath to ensure that I'm still alive.

Then, I hear the footsteps. Heavy, like a killer ready for his nightly fun.

I shiver, my chin lowering down to look at the floor below. My eyes fix itself on the sight of dark liquid on the ground. It looks slick, shiny, and abnormal to the everyday life that I'm used to see. I blink, a little confused; what is that I see? The grip on the lock of the door tightens, and I shut my eyes tightly before opening them, as a trick that I taught myself to let in more light into my eyes. It took me a little moment to see the tint of scarlet in the dark limpid pools on the floor, and my heart starts to pound…

"A-Alex?" I whisper without a breath, "W… What is that..?"

The hair on the back of the stood up when I immediately feel the hot, slick breath covering the skin of my neck, and I begin to tremble, my dear readers.

"Hi," the stranger-Or Alex, I hope to Bog above me-whispers, his hands snaking their way around my waist.

I shut my eyes, feeling embarrassed. I almost like this. I almost like the thrill of it. If this is Alex's way of having fun, then I applaud him for making me feel like this. I didn't know that he knew of my little rape fantasies that I've teased Georgina about, but then with him, there were no such thing as secrets. Yes, I admit it; I have odd fantasies in that nature, and no, I'm not going to see a therapist for it.

Now I can feel his hands slide down on the sides of my hips, and he whispers again, "Do you like this?"

"Very funny," I finally speak in an average tone and pitch this time, "Georgina dumped me. Are you happy now?"

Now I can feel his grip on my hips getting tight before he thrusts himself on me, which results in my chest pressing against the door, and he laughs in my ear, "Nuh uh. Truly you are mistaken, little brother."

I grunt, squirming to get out of this awkward position, but he wouldn't let me. I sigh in defeat finally before replying, "Well, she did. She did."

We stay like that in silence, and I can feel the other's hands roaming over my stomach, over the curve of my hips, over the slopes of my thighs…

"Alex, stop it," I hiss, no doubt my face looking like an apple right now, "I just want to go to bed, please…"

He stops, leaning a little bit so that I can turn around to face him.

And now I wish I hadn't.

He has his face turned a bit downward, creating a shadow over his face, but through the darkness I can see the bright red splatter all over his bone-pale skin, and I hold my breath. His eyes, always so perfectly blue, look wide and sinister, and he has a little closed smile set on despite the spray of liquid on his face.

That's when I look down, and see more pools of liquid of blood on the floor, before I see a head of hair on the floor. A body that belongs to a someone, a someone that used to be like me- Living, breathing, speaking, dreaming and just being-is on the floor bleeding to death.

"Alex," I tremble, "W-who's that?"

"Why," he answers, turning to look at the victim on the floor with a smile, "That's you."

I couldn't answer. I know I'm not dreaming, and I know this isn't some crazy drug trip since I've been clean ever since I've met Georgina. But what does he mean by that person being _me?_

"But I'm here," I whisper, and he turns to look at me again, and I choke up in tears, "Who is that, Alex? Just tell me… who is that on the floor?"

"He's nobody. He's not you, nor me, nor Georgina, or anybody that we know or used to know. He's a fourteen year starry shaika member, and he snuck in here to crast my cal. I govoreeted he was you because, just look at him, Pete-he has the same gulliver of perfect waves as you do. He even has the same glazzies and smile as you. But… he was trying to shvat something from me, O my brother. Cutter, perhaps, and I couldn't let that happen… So I killed him. I killed him, Pete, and it feels so real dobby. And everybody messel that I was all cured and normal, huh?"

He takes his thumb to run it over his bloodied cheek, setting it down to look at the red liquid on his thumb before taking a lick off of it. I grimace, and he smiles at me.

He's right. He hasn't changed. He isn't cured. He's worse now than ever.

"You're home early. I didn't expect you until tomorrow nochy. Too baddiwad you had to viddy me like this. Now you know what I do in the privacy of my domy."

He pauses, and so did I.

He looks into me before leaning closer to me, staring hard at me before he whispers in a knife-cutting way, "You shvatted my _fucking_ journal, didn't you?"

"I was meaning to return it to you—"

He smacks me across the face before pushing himself right on me again, his hands grabbing my wrists before I could even _think _about fighting him back. I begin to break down and start crying, _"Alex, please, don't do this to me, I'm your friend…"_

_"My best droog!"_ he snarls, making me cry harder, "And you crast my journal behind my back. After I gave you my domy, my brotherly affection and my food… I treated you too horrorshow, malenky bratty. Too horrorshow!"

"_I-I'm sorry!"_ I cried out.

"You're sorry? You're **sorry?" **he repeatedly shoves himself on me like a ball banging on a paddle, "Sorry for what, Pete? For the journal or you being a sodding idiot?"

"Both, Alex, both!" I screech, "It's both. I'm an idiot, and I stole your journal. Fuck!"

He takes his hands off my wrists to grab the collar of my shirt now, and he smiles at me, "You'll have to pay for what you've done, Peter Rabbit. What govoreets you and I visit the rabbit hole?"

I choke at his grip before sputtering out, _"What rabbit hole?"_

"The hole that enters all veshches oozhassny and unforgivable. You have to pay for what you've did, Pete, and you have to do exactly what I govoreet, or you're ittying to end up like _him_ on the floor there."

He loosens the grip of my collar and leans into my ear, "Get down on your knees. Now."

Without a second thought, I obey his orders and let myself fall to the ground, my knees touching the floor and my eyes look up at my Master & Leader. He looks down at me, his expression in a sick twist of satisfaction and a sheen of lust in his brilliant blue eyes.

"Real dobby. Real dobby. Now, get on all fours and viddy at the red red krovvy I've caused."

I do as he says and force myself to look at the deep, dark mess on the floor. Okay, just what in the world is he trying to do to me here? If this is his idea of a punishment, he needs to be more creative than this. I would have expected him to kick me in the nuts, or kick me out of his house to die in the cold, or anything of that sort…

He takes a step over me to get on the other side, and I can see him crouch down in front of me. I look into his eyes, and his breathing suddenly becomes harder for some reason. _Is he enjoying this?_

"Lick it."

"Lick… lick what, _exactly?"_ I hiss at him.

He nods down at the floor, and my stomach constricts, "Alex, no—"

"_Alex, no!" _he mimics me with a high pitch voice before slapping the side of my head up, "Lick it up like a good dog."

"Anything but that—"

He grabs a fistful of my hair before shoving it downward, my face literally a few centimeters away from the blood, _"Do it."_

For everything I've been through, I knew I had to be strong especially in this situation. I gagged a little, my mouth opening slightly to slip my tongue out of its cage, and I take one very small lick of the blood. It tastes exactly how I would imagine- dirty copper coins. I groan.

"Lick it again!"

I did another swipe with my tongue at the floor. I can hear his breath getting more and more shallower, and I did it again and again. Soon the taste of copper fades, and it is almost like drinking water this time, and you couldn't even blame me… I'm held captive, and I'm thirsty.

I pause, waiting for the next order. Or perhaps, for my life to end.

"Wait here." He says plainly before getting up to travel his way into the kitchen. I can hear him turning on the lights, and the brightening of the kitchen helps me to see the violently red chaos on the floor, and I couldn't help but start to cry silently to myself.

After a moment, the lights went out again and I can hear his footsteps coming towards me. He crouches down again and he whispers in an acidic tone, "I want you to want me to hurt you, Pete."

I blink at him, my mind drawing a blank at what he just said. He only stares coldly at me.

"You… want me to want you to hurt me?"

He smiles a little. I shudder, "H-hurt me, Alex."

He laughs, the same laugh that I remember from the very first night we met with his gang from my first job. It still sounds cold and synthetic, horrible and causes you to form goose bumps all the way around.

"What did you say?" he whispers, his eyes full of lust again.

"Hurt me," I could barely whisper, "Hurt me."

He grins wickedly before he lifts one of my wrists up towards him. The next thing I know, he lifts his other hand to reveal his trust ol' cane knife at me. Just like that, he slashes it against my wrist, and I yelp out in pain.

He laughs as I hold my injury towards my chest, and I can feel the warm blood spilling into my chest from the opening wound, "Beg for more, Pete. Don't tell me you don't like doing this?"

I bit my bottom lip and shake my head, "N-no. I don't."

"Beg."

I got on my hands again and cry, "Hurt me, Alex."

"You can do better than that!"

I let myself fall over his lap this time, my arms wrapping around his hips and I whisper, "Hurt me. Just hurt me."

"I can't slooshy you, my little brother."

I knew I had to be creative here. Alex is long gone now; he's not even a human being anymore, just a raging killing machine, and this could be my final night at being a living, breathing person. But at this point, I don't even want to live anymore. If I am going to die, it'd be better to be in the hands of an old friend than a dirty rotten gang member that doesn't even wash off the blood of his prior victims. At least with Alex, he can do it and then respect my death by cleaning all the evidence away.

I stop my crying, and he pauses. I slowly sit up, my dirty blond mane covering the front of my eyes before I lift my chin up a little so that he can finally see them. He blinks once, in curiosity I'm assuming, and waits for my next antic. I sit there in silence for a moment before tilting my head to the side with a libidinous smile, and he frowns at me. But then I can see his expression softens into a more confused state as I lift my injured wrist up to my lips before I lick it.

I keep my half lidded eyes on him, continuously licking at my wound, the metallic taste of my blood almost sooths the fear in me. I smile through the licking, and I take in a deep breath before closing my eyes completely with a soft moan.

"Pete?" I hear him say.

I ignore him and keep licking at my wound, moaning in between the licks. I can hear him now shifting his weight uncomfortably, but yet he still stays and watches me.

I take the wound away from my lips and look at him now. No doubt my lips and chin are now covered in my blood, and he hesitates at me. I smile voluptuously at him before whispering, "Please hurt me. It feels so good."

Now I can see him reddening and breathing harder, as if seeing a nude beauty for the very first time in his life. I know what I'm doing is suicidal, but like I said; its better that he kills me than anybody else.

I at least trust him that much.

I can see him trying to control his carnal desires, but I want to tease him. I want to see what he sees in me. Am I a friend or a toy for him? I wish it's the former, but it's most possibly the latter. Now that Georgina is gone in my life and my boring suburban life has hit the shit, I can finally die in peace.

I bravely take the cane knife from its spot next to him, and I lift my shirt over my head before discarding it near the dead boy near us. I shift up to my knees and smile at him lewdly, drawing the knife near my stomach. He halts his breath, and my eyes catch the sight of his hand covering the front of his pants.

"Getting hard over this?" I say, threateningly pushing the knife into my flesh, "Blood play must be your thing, huh Alex?"

He smirks, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to kill myself here, what do you think?"

"Well now, don't be so gloopy, Pete. All I wanted was to punish you, not shvat your jeezny away. But you're messing with like a rabid dog here, Peter, so you shouldn't entertain that messel too much."

"And why not?" I whisper sadly, "Honestly, Alex, look at me. Look at us. We're broken. Damaged. We're not even people anymore, just shells thriving on shrills and thrills. We were like that when we were young, and we're still like that now."

His eyes widen as I finally manage to cut into my flesh, and I drag it across a side angle from my stomach to my chest. It hurts but I did it. The blood starts to seep out and trickles down on my stomach and down below, and I look at him for a response.

I smile at him, my eyes halfway down and I trace my finger playfully on the side of his hair, "Come on, Alex. You know you want to."

He doesn't budge, only stare hard at me as his breath becomes slow and shallow. I'm going in for the kill; I let my tongue fall out to lick my bottom bloody lip, and I smile suggestively at him before leaning dangerously close to his face, "You should taste my blood. I'm absolutely delicious," and I lean closer so that my still bloodied lip _nearly _touches his upper lip, _"Little Alex."_

He whimpers before pushing me away and getting up, walking quickly back to the kitchen. I finally get up from the floor and watch him turn on the lights and head to the sink to turn on the water. I walk towards him as he splashes water on his face, his shoulders shaking.

I come to his side before whispering, "Alex?"

He turns off the faucet, and he buries his face into his hands again, taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

Now I know the answer to my previous question; he sees me as a friend, not a play toy. My heart starts to run fast at the thought, and I smile at him.

"I forgive you, Alex, despite everything. You just need a friend, and I'm right here. Always and forever, you know that, right?"

He stays still for a while before leaning back up again. He lets his hands fall to the side, and I can see his wet hair and face as he nods in agreement.

"Let's clean up the mess. I don't know what to do with the body," I turn over my shoulder to view the dead body in the other room, "But I trust that you would know what to do."

"My Bog, Pete. I almost would have killed you too," he whispers in pain, his shoulders beginning to shake. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he slides down to the floor, and I shush him as he cries into my shoulder.

"It's fine. It's alright now. I had to do that… Because," I smile, "I knew you would freak out and not go through with wanting to murder me."

I comb his hair with my fingers, and he continues to cry. It's really funny how he is; so much hate and anger, but then with the right words and actions, he comes down like a big baby.

"You can," he hiccups in between tears, "You can itty back domy to Georgina if you want. Just pretend that this whole veshch never sloochatted. This hostage situation, the body, everything… I just don't want to end up oobivatting you."

"You won't kill me," I sternly tell him, "Because I won't let you do that. Because I know you're way better than that. Because we're best friends and best friends don't do that to each other."

He lifts his head up to look into my eyes, "You're bezoomny."

I had to laugh, "Look who's talking."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"_Ho ho ho! Well if it isn't fat, stinkin' Billygoat Billyboy in poison!"_

_Still high from the drencroms and going all ultra-violence on that poor old singing tramp just a few moments ago, I keep a tight grip on my Irish walking stick while keeping my eyes on Alex. He stands so arrogantly tall, and his eyes and smile were as wide as a wild joker. I turn to look up at the center stage, and I see Billyboy and his crew stare down at us with be fumbled expressions on their dirty, rotten faces. Their victim-a young woman that couldn't be more than seventeen years old-ran out of the stage while frantically crying. I caught a glimpse of her bouncing breasts and I had to smirk._

"_How art thou? Thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip oil?"_

_Alex knew of Billyboy through their corrective school section, about a year before the school finally kicked Billyboy out for his mischief and criminal behavior. Damn near everybody was afraid of this guy, but Alex took him on like he's some kind of joke instead. This angered Billy something fierce, and ever since then, he targeted Alex in his nightly rounds out with his gang and try to fight us. Just typical gang drama, you know._

_The chip oil comment basically meant how much French fries and potato chips that fat boy shoves in his face, and I couldn't help but giggle a little bit._

"_Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarbles, ya eunuch jelly thou!"_

"_Let's get em', boys!"_

_And just like that, we were fighting each other and giving each other a much deserved ass-whooping for all the bullshit we have given each other ever since our gangs were perfected. Though it truly isn't fair how Billyboy's gang had more members in it than ours, it was never the less that our fighting techniques made them all fall down and crying boo-hoo-hoo'ing instead of the other way around._

_Alex, Dim, Georgie, and I finally all had them down on the ground and whipping them with our weapons until they all started crying from the pain. If it had not been the drencroms, my dear readers, I would have already vomited all over myself from the violence I'm causing. But none of that now, because then I hear a sharp whistle coming from Alex._

"_The police! Come on, let's go!"_

_We all ran out, howling like a bunch of assholes, and we were met face-to-face with the everlasting cooling air from the midnight skies of England…_

I roll my eyes open, and the first thing I see, readers, is a simple wooden coffee table set in front of me. I am sleeping on a couch, and my eyes train on the color of the walls all around me. Light blue, like the summer skies. I rub my eyes with a small grunt; I'm in Alex's home.

"Alex?" I hail out to the air.

"Morning, my malenky bratty! How did you spat? Much horrorshow, I pray, yes?"

"Much so, brother, much so!" I quip, sitting up so that I can properly stretch, "What's for breakfast?"

"Eggiwegs and toast. Some chai, or coffee if you prefer."

I look at the floor surrounding the couch, and I can't even see a single spot of blood anywhere in here. It's amazing and almost like last night never even happened. The thought of that sent a painful prickle in my skin, and I can't help but wonder where the body might be now.

Only Alex Delarge knows.

I look over my shoulder to see the most adorable thing I think I'll ever encounter in my short lived life-It is Alex in the kitchen, concentrating very hard on the coffee maker while it's brewing the drink, his hands on the counter where the machine sits and he was almost bending over to look at it with dramatic intensity. I couldn't help but smirk at his hard expression. I hop off from the couch to venture my way into the kitchen to get on his side now before slapping a hand on his shoulder, and he looks at me curiously.

"Will you relax? When it's ready, it'll beep." I chuckle at him, and he glares at me.

"Is that right?" He mumbles, looking back at the machine, "I don't trust it."

"Now you're just being adorable," I giggle, "Honestly, Alex, just sit down with me. We need to talk."

He growls at the coffee maker before standing up straight to walk to the kitchen table to sit in it. I sit down near him before laying my hand on him again, this time being the top part of his hand, "Alex, where is the body?"

He looks at my hand for a painfully long moment, almost as if he was caught by the police and is being questioned right now. He gulps, flashing his azure eyes at me before mumbling with his eyes downward, "I hid it somewhere in the woods. You fell asleep on the couch, and I cleaned up the mess before hauling the plott into a soomka. I am a hobbyist in other peoples' suicide methods, and so I pulled him over to the woods out there somewhere and made it viddy like he oobivatted himself rather than murdered."

"Oh, Alex," I mumble, shaking my head, "I do hope it works. I don't… I don't want you to go back to prison."

"Neither do I, Pete. I tried my best and that's all it counts right now," he pauses, "I still need you to find myself a jeezny partner, in a way, but…"

"But?" I question, bringing my chair closer to his side so that I can lean closer to him, "What's wrong?"

He hesitates with a roll of his eyes, "I just don't think I can find the dama of my sneeties, that's all. I am ittying to be honest with like myself here, Pete; I'm not romantic. I'm not sladky, or nice, or anything like that. Cheenas ought to stay away from me if they know what's real dobby for them. I don't think I'll ever be a grand pee to my son either."

"Don't say that, Alex!" I whisper in bewilderment, "Don't put yourself down like that! I'm sure some special lady out there would be _thrilled _to have you in her life."

He gapes at me, "Pete…"

I smile a little at him, wrapping an arm around his neck before bringing myself closer to him, laying my head on the crook his neck, "I'll help you find someone, Alex. I will. You can count on ol' Peter Rabbit for anything!"

I can hear him smirk, "That's honky-dory and all, Pete, but… There is something I need to confess to you."

I didn't move; he feels really nice and warm right now, and I don't want to expose myself to the chilly morning air. But I hummed a little _"Mm'hmm?" _at him so that he can go on.

"I… I don't want a zheena anymore, Pete. I want you."

I yank myself away from him as if he just burned me, and I push myself back so that the chair can screech back far from him. I stared at him with probably the most pissed off look ever, and I hiss, _"You still think I'm gay?"_

Now it's his turn to look at me with the most pissed off look ever, "What? No! It's not like that, Pete!"

"Then what the _fuck _did you meant by that?"

"I meant… I want you as someone to stay with like me here. For jeezny. To be not only my best droog, but also my domy droog. To have a droogie there to give me soviet, to console me at my baddiwadest razzes, a droogie that I can chasso, someone that is like a roommate but is here forever. It's difficult to explain, but… I want you under my hostage for good. Do you pony?"

"And, and, _oh I don't know!"_ I shrill angrily, "What about me? Huh? What about _my _rights as a human being?"

He snorts at my ill attempt to look threatening, "Please calm down, bratty. It's not like I'm ittying to keep you locked here or anything; you'll still get to itty outside and live your life… I just want you to come back domy after you're done with like your personal errands and such."

The coffee maker beeps three times. I am fuming right about now, "And what about Georgina?"

"What about her? She doesn't love you anymore."

"Fuck you!" I snarl, "She definitely loves me. We're just going through a rough patch, that's all. And I hate to remind you this, but she dumped me because of you!"

He gets up to go get the black coffee, "Will sakar and cream be real dobby for you?"

"Are you even listening?" I whimper, looking around and about as if I'm looking for a sign of escape from here, "You're being fucking crazy right now!"

"Bezoomny? Or maybe I just want my best droog near me for always?" he puts down my cup of coffee on the table before going back to the small area near the sink to fetch the bowl of sugar cubes and cream pourer, "Just give this a shot. What have you got to lose?"

"**Everything!"** I scream.

…

"Yes, this is Delarge speaking. Yes. Yes. Oh, I see. Mmhmm. Oh my… that doesn't sound too good. Well, alright, I'll be at the station in a few minutes, then. Yes, I know. Alright, bye."

There I am, lying on the same goddamn couch again, and my eyes are puffy from all the crying and screaming earlier today. I watch the television idly, now and again shifting a little bit around to get myself comfortable. Let's just say, today is not a good day for me, readers.

I wouldn't even dare to open my mouth and ask Alex who was that on the phone. But the word "station" immediately brought an image of the police in my mind, and I knew that Alex being a homicidal detective and all was needed there right now for an investigation.

"Horrorshow, Pete, I'll be back domy this evening. So I hope you don't rassoodock me kupetting Chinese takeout!" Alex calls out from the kitchen, and I just roll my eyes secretly in response.

I hear a few footsteps walking around in the kitchen, a few things being taken off from tables, and him whistling a peppy little tune. I just keep my eyes glued to the screen.

Alex comes into the living room and crouches down near me to take a look at my post-tearful face. He stares at me a little bit before whispering, "Are you okay?"

I didn't answer him. I just keep my eyes on the television screen without uttering a single word to him.

Alex smirks, before getting up to walk over to the door. That's when I hear him say, "I'll viddy you this nochy, _my beloved zheena!"_

I sit up and stare at him like he just shat me in the face. He throws his head back and laughs out loud, and I rub my eyes with an angry growl.

"Just go. And be sure to get me a spring roll when you get back!" I say before lying back down on the couch with a huff, "I want root beer soda too, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind, Pete. I'll see you later," and just like that, the door opens and shuts, leaving me alone once more in the house of horrors.

Wonderful.

I continue to watch my television programs for the next hour and a half, and then I turn it off to go get myself a snack in the kitchen. Alex's breakfast did not fill me up, so my stomach was reaching for something more to conquer it's hunger. I put a hand on my stomach as it growls, shushing it as if it were a crying baby.

Opening the fridge, there is a good supply of all sorts of food there, and I reach in to get myself a chocolate pudding cup. I dig in for the cabinet right next to the fridge to get a tablespoon before coming back to the living room.

"Wonder how the weather's like today," I muse to myself, sitting down on the couch, "Maybe I should go for a walk. Get some fresh air or something…"

_Or seeing Georgina, eh?_

I shake my head, "I'd rather not. She and I need some space right now, and I can respect that. We'll be back together again… I just know it."

_What if she doesn't want you back?_

"I know she wants me back. She loves me."

_Really? Because even Alex doesn't think so._

"That's because he's a dick," I hiss at my little friend that lives in my head, reaching for the remote, "He doesn't love anybody, and nobody loves him."

_And you don't?_

"I love him like a brother and all, but just… romantically, I doubt anyone would want him."

_You seem to have changed your tune since earlier today… I thought Alex deserved someone who loves him?_

I snort, "Whatever. I'm going to go and take a shower, fuck off."


	17. Chapter 17

_Hello there, fellow droogies! I have been updating this story like crazy because I am smelling the end of this fic and I want to get to that point so we can all move on. I'd like to thank Dan Sickles, TheWeaselyBoys, Pet Archer, and the few others who gave me some really nice reviews ever since I started this fic. Without you guys, this story would have been prematurely dead and forgotten, so major props to you fellas!_

_This chapter was a little hard to write, and I'm surprised it turned out like this, especially when it comes to Alex. He is downright HORRIBLE in this chapter, so I'm just warning you; all of those fuzzy feelings you have for him will be temporarily (or permanently lol) destroyed once you read what he's going to do. I'm proud to say that through and through, I kept Alex's sociopathy in this story._

_I hope you enjoy this!_

Chapter 17

The evening strolls into England like a whisper that cannot be heard but to be behold instead. Alex had came back home from the police station, and I was just about done reading another entry of his journal before he could catch me again. The hardest lessons are sometimes never learned, I'm afraid; For not even the blood of a fourteen year old boy can deter me from forsaking the small, black leather book. Like Alex promised earlier today, he brought us takeouts, and I thanked him by giving him that meek little beam that I'm so gifted at doing.

"Did it cost much?" I mutter while scavenging the dinner in the plastic bags, "Do I owe you much?"

He says nothing, but shoulder passes me by instead. In that moment, a jab intersected through my guts, and I turn my gaze over my own shoulder to watch Alex walking to the table as silent as death. What was that for? Why isn't he as talkative as he usually is?

I can't find it in my head as to why he's acting this way; he came back home with an unusually strict expression, and naturally I was curious as to why. Once we were sitting down in the dinner table, I gaze through his coarse eyes and I called out his name in a hushed tone. I wanted to know what's wrong, and what I can do to help. I was about to call out his name instead, but a cold stare from him earned me to shut my trap. I've done my house duties for today, and he seemed quite alright with that, and it earned me some peace and quiet. No head games, no bull crap from him, just him and I eating dinner. His expression, though, hasn't left since he slipped into the house several minutes earlier, and while I am happy with the refreshing silence, deep down I knew something is wrong.

"You're quiet," I murmur under my breath, "Usually you'd start talking by now."

I scan my eyes just in time to watch him almost choke on what I assume to be a shrimp. He reaches for his soda can and gulps some of its dark contents down his throat to ease the discomfort, and I look down at my own half finished plate. Okay, maybe I shouldn't question things while he's eating, lest I want him to kill himself by accident.

I dig in some more, savoring the different flavors and textures, when _he _starts to murmur under his breath, "They found the body."

No doubt my eyes dilate at what he just said, and I stare at my white rice that for some reason look like vomit to me than actual supper. Or maybe that's exactly how I wanted to look? I lay a hand over my stomach when I hear it growl, and I whisper, _"What?"_

"You shan't be telling this to anybody, do I make myself clarity clear? The police questioned me, and I govoreeted them that I'll inspect the plott. Then I told them that it was most likely suicide, but something tells me that they're not kupetting the raskazz. The least you can do for me now, Pete, is to stay calm. That's all I want."

I run a shivering hand over my blonde mane with a sigh, "I have to be your rock, but I can't have one?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I mean… I have to be your guardian, your nurse, your best friend, your matchmaker… what about me, Alex?"

"I get to chasso you from harm. If you never ittied back to Georgina while that intruder came by the other nochy, for sure I would have cut his gorlo out in the eemya of saving you from unnecessary pain."

I toss my napkin over my food and lean the chair back away from the table, the feet screeching loudly against the wooden floors, "I'm going to bed. Good night."

Surprisingly, readers, he doesn't object. He doesn't call out after me, or try to grab my arm to keep me from walking away from him, or anything. He just lets me go, all the while staring at me like he's upset with me. I climb up the stairs to his bedroom with fierce determination to read one or two more entries of his journal before calling it a day. The last entry I read was when he purchased this house one morning six months ago; it had cost him a pretty penny, but it was all saved up from his cushy government job several miles away from here, and I wanted to scream in jealousy. I have been unemployed while Georgina types _clack-clack-clack _like a steely robot in a corporate machine near our home. I hated it, and I still hate it. I hate how vulnerable, weak, and stupid it makes me feel. What little money the State Marine Insurance sends me through the mail isn't even enough to cover our monthly bill expenses without having Georgina fork over her own money.

I wanted to be the man in her life, but I'm not a man. I'm still just a small, pathetic little boy.

"Let's see what other secrets you have here," I say to myself while flipping through the journal on his bed. Ever since a while back when I told Alex that I would help him to never die alone without feeling loved, he grants me to sleep next to him in his bedroom. The basement had absolutely no way of protecting me from the cold, and even the wicked Alex knew how bad that would be like had he been in my shoes in this strange situation. So, he gives me permission to come sleep here instead.

The next journal entry after his purchase of this small house, leads me to an entry that was written today:

_December 27, 2056. Good morning, old friend. There is much to update in my life. Pete came back home last night, and caught me from my first purposeful murder on a young gang member. The blood was so beautiful all over the floor, and he knew now of what I'm fully capable of. What I'm more angry at anything or anybody, though, is the fact that he had his hands on this journal without my permission while I let __**him **__see Georgina on Christmas day. As you can imagine, I was livid and determined to punish him. I slashed his wrist, and the blood came out like scarlet confetti in a sinister wedding, and I wanted to see what he would look like while suffering under my own terms. Well, the thing is, journal, is that he has a funny way of getting back at me; I mean, he looked like he enjoyed the pain a little too much for what it's worth. I pushed him off me when he tried to transfer the blood on his lip into my own to get a taste of him, and it felt like the goddamn Ludovico Treatment all over again. I am starting to not like Peter anymore, really. He keeps letting me down, and he keeps lying to my face for just about everything. I don't know how much more I can take from him. I will try and keep my disappointment in him as best as I can; he is the ticket to the dreams of owning a family after all, and after all of that is done and over with, he shall be gone. Away from my family, away from my job, and especially-away from __**me. **__Until then, I shall write myself a reminder of the speed dating event at the Dove Café that will be held on January 5__th__ of 2057. 9 days away. Signed, Alex._

He is going to use me? Had he always wanted to use me for the sole purpose of finding him a suburban pipe dream? _That liar! That __**monster!**_ I slap the book in a very strong emotional spasm, and I can feel the tears of rage trickling out of my eyes. All I can see is red, just like the kind I saw last night. I flew down the stairs to go back to the kitchen, my feet stomping like a roll of thunder drums and rain.

When I reach down the kitchen slash living room, I see Alex still in the kitchen table not eating, but have his face in his hands. I march right over to him without a second notice, and you know what? I've decided not to be such a nice guy anymore. The nice guy in me **fucked **over my entire life. The nice guy in me **fucked **my chances at ever getting the normal childhood that was taken away from me by Alex, Georgie, and Dim. The nice guy in me that led Georgina into dumping me as if I was yesterday's trash.

No words came out of me as much as I wanted to scream, because no words could ever describe the anger and _hatred _that I feel for Alex right now. Instead, I grab the top of his head by his dark blond hair and haul him out of his chair before pushing him with full force down to the floor. He growls out in pain and confusion before he positions himself on his elbows to see who was the asshole who dared push Alex Delarge on the floor like that. When he saw the ice cold venom in my eyes, his face went completely white.

I throw myself on top of him before wailing on him with my fists, punching everywhere; his face, his throat, his hands while he's trying to protect his face, his chest and even his stomach. He yells at me to stop, to stop, to stop, but I won't stop. _I'll never fucking stop. _He caused my life to sink into absolute and utter _shit _because of him! Ever since I was fourteen, he came to my life and it was all over for me then, and I could have ran from him and the old gang; I could have reported him to the police. It was my fault that I'm in this shit, but I had to have my revenge. I wanted to be avenged, even if it was done on my own.

A good blow to his face and he starts to cough up blood, and I grab him by throat before shaking him. He immediately responds by grabbing my hair and starts to extract them from my head, and I screech in pain and anger. I can feel his feet kicking around and about and can hear his feet stomping on the floor as he tries to choke out more oxygen into his system. His pulling of my hair ends up with me seeing him face to face, and I hack a full one before spitting into his own. Fuck, I hate him!

But Alex, as you may have already known, is a smart fighter. He's been trained nearly his entire life for this kind of situation. He is supposed to be my master in training, and now he has his own student successfully trying to kill him. But even when everything starts to get a little too crazy, he always finds a way to fight back. With a curl of his fist, he swings at the top of my temple and off I go to the floor next to him, and I hold on to my head as I start to cry.

Now it's Alex's turn to get on top of me. I almost expected him to grab at my head and twist it off from my body for causing all of that havoc on him, but he just pins me down to the floor and stares at me with a callous tone. There were no screams coming from him, or tears or him trying to punch me to a coma. Instead, he just has his bloody hands on my shoulders and stares at me. I don't know which is worse, to be honest with you. I am force to look at the nightmare that has ruined my life since I was fourteen, and even with my eyes closed, I can still f_eel _his white-hot stare.

I start to choke up and cry, "I hate you, Alex. I hate you!"

"I know. And I don't care."

I stifle a whimper till it all comes out into a drawn-out cry. _That _hurt. Now I know that Alex is completely and totally done with our friendship, the friendship that might have been a façade for all of these years. That is the most painful part of all; you would think you have finally found a person who you can be yourself around with in a way, a someone who is so charming and so attractive to pay any sort of attention in your direction, and it's like having some sort of idol who thinks the world of you. Then you find out: They don't see you that way. You were just a toy, entertainment for their boredom and desperation for fun and fulfillment. They never cared about you, and they never will. Alex was, and still somewhat is, an enigma of charisma and strength, and I should have known that he would never respect or care for a troubled lost soul like me. _I should have known._

"Just get off me!" I gripe in between sobs, "Just let me go! Let me live!"

He smirks, "No. You're ittying to stay here until I decide what to do with like you."

One by one, he slips his arms behind me until he hauls me up, and then he turns me around with his arms still wrapped around my shoulders. I naturally of course begin to struggle, still crying from what he said to me. My knees begin to buckle as the feeling of nausea came up, but Alex wastes no time into physically forcing me to go downstairs to the dreaded basement where I first woke up in during this hostage hell. The room is dim but the eyes of mine can still make out the outlines of the tossed mattress on the floor, the mini bar and fridge, and the concrete reality all around me.

He shoves me to the bed, and before I could react even further, he takes out something from his back pocket and points it blankly in the forehead. The metal of the object feels cold to my head, and I take in a shaky breath before I realize that it's a gun that Alex is holding to my head. Any moment and my brain matters will be all over the place. Any moment now, and the lie that is my life will be over. In my heart, it beats hard and fast for many reasons; this situation, Georgina, my mother, my lost childhood, the look of Alex's dark smug on his face. The room begins to spin all around me, and I look deep inside of his dead blue eyes before he finally speaks again.

"I'm about to give you the bolshiest punishment of your jeezny, Pete. From this nochy forward, you will be a complete slave for me. I will not give you the best pischa, best warmth, or the best living conditions. Most of all, I will not give you my friendship and my love for you anymore. You will live a jeezny of saddening limbo, a nightmare that will never end. You will horn and creech and moan for having the touch of a loved odin, but you won't get it. Not now, and not ever. You're here until the second you shvat your final breath."

He takes the gun away from my forehead finally and whispers, "Death would be too sladky for you, Peter Rabbit. Instead, I'm taking you to Hell."


	18. Chapter 18

_Hey guys! I know I said that I was gonna update after the 10th of May, but I couldn't help but squeeze as much time as possible into making this ridiculously long chapter in between college, work, and doing homework as well as seeing friends and family members. (And watching some nice TV!) I'm amazed at how organized and efficient I'm getting, soooo… yeah. Enjoy this! Leave reviews and all that cal!_

Chapter 18

I had a dream.

In the crepuscular dream, I was stuck in a huge spider web that would slice against my pallid flesh if I tried to struggle free. I can feel the searing pain, the feelings of fear and confusion, the anxiety of wondering if this is reality or not. It was one of those lucid dreams that Greg told me about one time at a house party of his, and he told me that it felt and looked like real life.

"_The mind is a powerful thing" he would tell me in between smoking his flavored cigarette, "I'd be careful if I were you, Peter."_

In the dream, I cried out for help out the faintest hopes that someone could hear me. My calls came out as empty echoes into the darkness, and my struggling became weaker. I could feel the warm blood from my wrists and ankles as I try to come free from the web. I tried to go against the pain to achieve freedom but I kept proving myself that the attempts were simply futile. All around me was darkness; I wasn't in a room or someplace out there in the world, or anything like that. It was simply pitch dark and desolate. I screamed for help more and more, but all I could hear are my calls coming back to me in echoes.

Am I dead?

Then, as if my intuition knew better, I looked upwards to the side and see someone on the web too. He outstretches an arm to grab a hold of one string of a web and hauls himself downward towards me, the web surprisingly not cutting him. He keeps climbing down towards me, and my breath becomes more shallower as he does. His eyes shone a bright red, and his hair a dishwater blond color, and he was on the thinner side, his body wrapped in a black rubber suit…

"What do we have here?" He hissed once he reached me, stroking a finger against my cheek in amusement, "What is your eemya?"

"It's me, Alex. Pete. Peter Tarn." I choked up in tears, "You… You were supposed to be my friend…"

He hums a little while cocking his head to the side at me, "Peter? Peter Tarn… You don't smot very familiar to me, bratty. You viddy like dinner to me."

The peculiar sound of an echoing scream cuts through the cold dark atmosphere, and I look away from his eyes for a moment to scan all around me to see what that sound could be coming from. I saw nothing, nothing but pure darkness, and a cold sweat trickles down my throat; just who could that be? It sounded like somebody was brutally murdered somewhere out there in cold blood. I let my head drop, hearing myself heaving in fear and in tears, and Alex leans a little closer for perhaps out of simple curiosity. Or out of hunger, perhaps.

I start to break down, the tears hot against my cool pale face, "That's exactly what I am to you, Alex; Dinner. But not of the flesh, but on the spirits. And you did just that… I loved you like a brother, and this is how I get repaid in turn…"

He chuckles underneath his breath, "Spiders like me, Peter, don't befriend their victims. We just lovet them into our web of lies, watch them struggle for our entertainment, and we itty in for the oobivat. That's all it is, truly, like a contract of the souls that are about to be devoured."

"B-but," I hesitate, lifting my heavy head up to look straight into his eyes, "Don't you ever get lonely, Alex? Aching for real companionship?"

He stares at me with those ruby red eyes, and he whispers, "It's all I ever wanted. But it's not in my nature. I'm a killer, not a lover. I'm a monster, not a droog. And that's how it's ittying to be."

And, almost like a wonderful musical symphony, I watch intently as he reaches his hand out at me with long black fingernails to do his natural God-given duties. Everything then faded to black silence.

…

My eyes peel open, feeling sore and a little dry. There is not a single doubt in my mind that I cried myself to sleep. I could remember bits and pieces of the night before; Alex told me what he was going to do to me, and he screamed at me at what a pathetic, spineless "fag" I am to him. He stood there and called me every single name under the sun before demanding me to strip naked for him. I'm not going to sleep in any clothing anymore, he said, and instead I'll go to sleep while freezing to near death. He took away my thin blankets and my pillow, so all that's left is the mattress on the floor. I remember Alex marching up the stairs and turning of the lights; I remember the sound of my breath and heart going slower by the minute; I could remember burying my face in my cold hands and heaving and crying.

And now I'm awake, the entire room dimly lit from the early morning sun outside. The basement has nothing but one small window overseeing the grass of Alex's tiny backyard. From there, I can see the skies and the clouds and _life _beckoning to sneak out to enjoy everything again. I shakily sit up from the mattress, my skin super pale from the cold and general physical weakness from last night. I can feel the flakes on my lips and the soreness of my throat…

_Ka-boom!_

I lift my heavy head up, and I can see Alex walking towards me without saying a single word to me. I groan in uneasiness as I back myself up against the cool concrete wall behind me, not wanting to face him right now.

"_Get up."_ He snarls, grabbing me by my fair hair to pull me up to my feet.

I yelp a little in pain as he does so, and my knees begin to give out. Alex then, surprising me to a jolt, pushes me back to the concrete floor, scraping my arm in the process. I start to cry out a little, laying a hand over my injury as I can feel the chalky texture on my skin. I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from looking weak in front of Alex, and my eyes look up towards his pale eyes; he stares back at me in amusement before walking steadily towards me again.

"Alex—"

He kicks me in the stomach before I could say anymore, and I hold on as I try to stifle my cries of agony. He kicks my back and then crouches down to punch me right on the head, sending me in a world of hurt.

"Well well well now, Petey-ol-droog," Alex says with a wicked smile, "How does it feel to be like, fisted and kicked and beaten up by a starry droogie like meself? Art thou fagged enough of me, I pray not? Because I'm starting to like you again."

"You forgive others quick," I whisper, grinning a little in between the blood in my mouth, "For a so called intellectual."

His smile wilts and his face darkens, "Such bolshy slovos coming from such a malenky malchick. Yes, Pete, I eemyaed you a malenky malchick, because that's what you truly are; you only get paychecks from the Marines while the wife wife wife has to break her back to give you the kleb and the maslo. Clearly you aren't ready for marriage; clearly you aren't ready for a zheena. Is it any wonder how Bog got you here instead of with Georgina?"

"I know why!" I whisper in a fake gasp of horror, "It must be because of some pathetic man named Alex Delarge. Because instead of taking the shit like a real man, he takes others under hostage to soothe his insecurities instead! Well Alex, I'd hate to remind you this, but you'll never be like me. You'll never have a wife, you'll never a child nor a family dog, nor will you ever get all of this without the use of manipulation. You're dead, Alex. You're not a human being, but an animal without the brains or hearts to grab a hold of a woman who would forgive you for all the treacherous things you've done. You can't love, and nobody will love you. Accept thy fate, brother; you'll die alone."

In that moment, he forces out a funny little laugh, "Clearly you don't know me that well, brother…"

"Oh?" I tilt my head mockingly at him, and he grunts in a way that he doesn't like what I'm about to say, "Clearly you don't know yourself too well either. Face the facts, dear brother; No matter how hard you may try, you won't be normal like everybody else. I've changed and found myself a wife the fastest out of all the other members of our street gang. Georgie from what I've heard still hasn't found someone, and Dim just sleeps with prostitutes while crying himself to sleep at night. I doubt they'll find love, and I highly doubt you will either. Tell me, how would you ever love your future son knowing that you don't have the capacity to?"

"Silence yourself!" He growls, getting on his knees in front of me before grabbing a hold of my neck threateningly, "You don't know what goes on in my gulliver!"

I smirk, "I don't. You're right. But I have a feeling that all you think about is wanting someone to love you. But it won't happen, because you won't allow it. You'll die and nobody would even notice."

He looks straight at me, with the eyes that had always invite themselves into my nightmares ever since I was fourteen years of age, and more than anything right now, readers, is to bite him right in the face. Somewhere deep inside of me, a part of me lied to him; because I believe in the best of people, and I believe that change can happen if one works hard enough. If I could do it, if the heroin abusers down the street can do it, if the rapists from all around the world can try, then perhaps Alex could. But I wanted to hurt him; I wanted him to be insecure at the same time.

But then the strangest thing start to happen-He starts to laugh underneath his breath. I frown a little to myself, not liking the way he's laughing now. He tightens my throat a little more before he lets one of his hands go to reach around his back pocket to get something out. My eyes darts to the side just in time to catch the sight of his small pocket knife, and I struggle out of his grasp to get away before the worst of the worst can happen…

He slashes the knife very hard and very very fast against my chest, in the same exact way he did to Dim on the very first night we all met that faithful September night over six years ago. The pain is indescribable, and I wrap my arms around my chest to stop the bleeding. It is all coming out way too much, and I couldn't breathe easy anymore; Alex just looks at me while his breathing becomes shallow at the state I am in.

The blood seeps out through my fingers and into the floor all around me in perfect silence. I look up at Alex trying to find any explanations, but he just smiles at me lewdly so as I shake in horror.

"Very nice. Red must be your color, then," He whispers, _smecking _at the wondrous sight of me dying right in front of him, "Stand still, now."

In the midst of fear, I obey and make sure I lie perfectly still. I couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore, and instead fixate on the pool of blood that extends itself already several inches away from me. I could hear Alex shifting his weight a bit up and I knew I had to look up to see what is happening.

I can see Alex just sitting there with his hands on his thighs, just staring at me with his mouth open agape and eyes fill with wonder and lust at the violence he created. He wants to watch me die, does he? I look straight into his eyes, in the hopes that it will make him uncomfortable enough to get away from me, but he just sits perfectly still over me. His hair looks all swept upwards towards the ceiling, and with the way his eyes set perfectly unmoving on me, he looks like a right nut case that managed to escape from the psychic ward. That's when I realize (And I feel so stupid to not have noticed this before!) that he is wearing his old gang clothes, complete with the bowler hat and everything. The only thing missing is the false eyelashes, but it needn't to show itself; I could easily imagine his eye decorated in them just by looking at him staring at me.

I sigh before laying on my cheek to the cold, hard concrete floor below me, letting my eyes slip close to go back to sleep, this sleep of course being a permanent one at that.

"You will not snuff it on me just yet, my little brother," I can hear Alex mumble before feeling his fingers rake through my wavy hair, "Sit up so that I can stop the bleeding."

"Make me."

He grabs me yet again by the hair, prompting me to sit up. I croak out in misery as he does so, and I let my eyes snap open to come face to face with my nightmare in front of me. He lets go to rush to the mini bar, reaching underneath the sink to get him a white towel. I clutch to my chest to try and stop the heavy bleeding, and right now I literally look like a bloody mess. He comes back quickly to sit down in front of me and pushes the towel nice and sturdy against the bleeding, applying enough force to surprisingly halt the bleeding. Clearly he's had a lot of experiences with this.

"Why can't you just kill me?" I had to whisper to him as he flicks his eyes at me, "Why can't you just let me die in peace? I have _nothing _anymore, and I just want to leave this spinning blue Earth, you _fuck_."

He chuckles, his head shaking side to side and thus making his hair go swooshy-swoosh all around, "I govoreeted you the nochy before, Peter Rabbit; Death would too sladky for you, and thus, it'd be better to make you suffer, and suffer, and suffer without a satisfying ending."

"That Dove café event… It's only nine days away… For sure you might attract someone special there. What if they find me stuck here?"

He halts his breathing, "No. No. They'll never find you. I won't let them."

"Every single lie will be bound to be brought into the light, Alex. This secret hostage of yours will soon be figured out, and then what?"

"Well, as I govoreeted to you before, Pete; once I'll lovet a zheena of me own, I'll let you go and it'll be the end of this nightmare for you. I just don't want to viddy nor slooshy from you ever again. I just want you to move on. And for certain you wouldn't even report me because I'm the respectable head of the homicide team at the police station. Nobody would believe a short, skinny asshole like you."

He's right. From my casual research on what happened to Alex after the Ludovico Treatment, he accepted the job offer from the government in compensation for his suffering. No doubt they would protect him as much as they can if the big laws allow them. They would call me crazy, they would tell me that I don't have any facts, that I'm "making it all up" and to leave their precious ex-testing lab rat alone to keep up with their political appearances. If the entire country were to find out that they gave a job to Alexander Delarge who has an innocent person held hostage in his basement, Britain would break out into chaos. They won't respect the government and the idea of authority anymore. I might even go as far as say that there might be a riot over this.

"The government… they are protecting you, aren't they?" I mutter.

He smirks, "But of course. They already sodded up with the Ludovico Treatment, and if they found out that they rookered _me_ a job while keeping _you_ here, they would only destroy their respective image in front of the fucking Queen of England. So don't be gloopy about this, Pete; because if something sloochats to me and the government, I'm shvatty you down with me."

The bleeding miraculously ends, and Alex gently presses it some more to wipe away the dried out fluid before checking it to see if I'm alright. I look down and see a straight gash on my chest, with dark red stains all around my chest and stomach, and I groan in sickness. I could almost see the inside of my chest…

"Wait here until I can itty to the kitchen upstairs to get the first aid kit. I want you to be strong for me as I apply stitches on you, Pete." He casually commands me as he stands up over, "It'll hurt."

…

December 28th. 8 days until the Café event.

I wake up from my mattress to see the pale early light of the morning sunshine illuminating the dark basement. I stretch carefully; for fear that the stitches on my chest would accidentally pop out or something to that effect. I let my fingers trace against the giant scar, my eyes still heavy from the sleep, and my throat fizzle as I can feel the ultra sharp pain as I touch it. Well, at least I am strong enough to say that at least he didn't cut my legs off, or my mouth off, or anything that proves to be very very important to me in order to survive. That's all I can try to say, readers- To be in this situation and to survive to the end, one must try to be positive as much as God or Bog can allow it.

I turn to the side and find myself staring at a plate of what I assume to be breakfast in the poorest of form- A loaf of bread and a glass of water. Nothing less, nothing more, and my stomach growls in both hunger and in disappointment at the same time. No more _fancy _food for Little Pete anymore. I gingerly sit up and stare at the food a little longer before deciding that I won't eat it. I don't even want the water, despite my scratchy throat and how cracked my lips are. What if Alex poisoned it? Even with all of my suicidal thoughts and actions, the very thought of Alex successfully murdering makes my blood boil.

Then I remember. There's moloko in the mini bar. I hope _he _hadn't remembered to take it out.

I, painstakingly might I add, got out of the mattress to limp my way to the small kitchen area until I reach the small bar. Opening up a door underneath it, I find a beautifully simple glass bottle of moloko sitting there. I grab a hold of it before turning around to sit down on the floor, twisting the cap bottle off of it before swinging it up to rest it in between my thirsty lips. With the wonders of science and technology, my dear readers, the milk stood the test of time, and it tastes as fresh as the first day it hit the food markets. I gulp the white fluid down.

Swinging it down and away from my lips, I can see that I still have about half of it left, and I put it back where it came for later. I don't trust that Alex would bring me anymore safe food, so the moloko would have to do for now, until some miracle I either die peacefully or even better-I can escape to freedom at long long last.

And can you believe it-I had to crawl all the way back to the mattress just to lay back down and relax a little. I am in so much physical pain to even limp back, and with a heavy sigh, I close my eyes to try and forget about this; to remember the good old days of my youth, to remember the days of my parents, my old home, Georgina, Greg, and so on and so on…

…

"_Here is your check, Mr. Tarn."_

_The small, baby blue envelope looks so pathetic and so unimportant, but inside the envelope contains exactly what I need-money for all of my living expenses. Despite not earning much money, I am feeling very hopeful that someday I will receive a real job soon after "moving on" from being a boat repairman. I was thinking of opening up a small boat material store. After a month of running around with Georgie and Dim, and after they told me that it's time for us to grow up, I agreed dully with them before giving them the bird. That of course didn't end too well, and after a much heated verbal sparring, I walked away from them in anger. I did that especially out of hearing from Georgie's mouth that he and Dim will find Little Alex and once they do, will "Cut his yarbles off and tie him to a tree"._

_I came home to burn all of my gang clothes and confess to my mother absolutely everything that I've done all this time while being absent from this house. She naturally cried her eyes out, but surprisingly forgives me after all I've done. I am proud enough to say, even with me hitting homeless people, breaking shit, and fighting with other gangs, that I manage to stay away from all the rapes that the other three savages have partake in. I told her that and she hugged me, and she chants in heavy heaves and sobs, "I blame the milk, I blame the milk, I blame the milk…"_

_My poor, poor mother._

_During the time that Georgie and Dim went into the police program, I went into the boat impairing program for Marine soldiers. The education and training part took me a full year for me to learn until I became a natural at building, fixing, and perfecting both small boats and the parts of extremely large submarines. Being so shy and so introverted, it took me almost a whole another year until I made some solid new friends, one of them being Greg. He and I got into philosophical and religious arguments, but he and I always laughed it off in the end, and that's when he introduced me to the idea of small parties._

_I went to his first party, and my readers, it was the best decision I have ever made. Greg invited me into his small apartment and I found myself looking at all the hippie-like individuals who are all awed at my past troubles and present concerns. One of them, in particular, was the long-haired Georgina. I found her sitting on the couch drinking wine out of a plastic cup as Greg was telling us a fascinating story of his days at being in the Marine base, and I couldn't help but stare at her fair skin, her soft blue eyes, and her super blonde hair that is covered by a gray French beret._

"_Pete is your name, isn't it?" Georgina whispers after we got casually acquainted together a little while later, "Greg's told me all about you. He didn't tell me how cute you were, though!"_

"_Well, we should be glad he isn't homosexual, then. He would have kept me for himself." I smile as she throws her pretty little head up to laugh out loud._

_We started dating, and about a month into our passionate romance, I couldn't help but propose to her. You could very well imagine her surprise and happiness. We had ourselves a wonderful shotgun wedding, and she begged me to move in with her. I did, and we were as happy as can be. She would go and do her work as a typist while I tend after the housework. It wasn't the traditional sort of deal, but she didn't mind and was even glad that I do the legwork around here and cooked her food. Hell, I even gave her massages when she comes home from work all exhausted and sighing, readers. She told me one night, after a thunderous lovemaking, what a wonderful husband I have been to her, and how much she couldn't wait to start a family with me._

_It was a very fast romance, but a romance that I knew I had to grab a chance at because if not, I would have probably never saw her again. Sometimes, life is that unplanned and that wonderful._

_After another month of being happily in love, we went out to yet another one of Greg's small parties, and that was when I bumped into Alex after over two years of not seeing him. Not wanting to repeat myself of what happened right there and then, we talked while I wanted to kill him, and after that I took Georgina and myself out of the café. I took one last look behind my shoulder before I slipped out of the doors, though, and find Alex just sitting there staring at his tea, and I couldn't help but be both curious and sick to my stomach of having to face him all over again._

_That night at the party, I wasn't being myself. I wasn't being social with anyone or even was mentally THERE while everyone had fun with Greg's stupid word games. Georgina would try and try to get a word out of me, but I would just sit there in utter silence. She finally gave up and got pissed at me, readers, before getting off from the couch we were both sitting on to talk to her other little friends. I just couldn't help but think about what happened at the café, about Alex and how grown up he almost looked, about how colder his eyes looked and how longer his hair has gotten. After the party, Greg offered both Georgina and I a ride back to the apartment, and after that was over and done with, I find myself staring at my dark ceilings above me in my bed next to my wife, who was still beyond angry with how I behaved at the party._

_A couple of days later and I became twenty years old. I still wasn't acting like Peter Tarn, and I still wasn't, even a day after my birthday. That was when Georgina and I had that small argument at the kitchen table that evening before I went out for a walk that ended up changing my life forever. That night, I was kidnapped by a stranger, only to find out that the stranger was of course Alex Delarge._

_If I could change anything at this point, it would be to never take anything for granted. I place the small baby blue envelope at the coffee table near Georgina on the morning of Greg's party and running into Alex, and I smiled at Georgina, unbeknownst to me that my life would soon turn to absolute shit._

…

"You're not eating."

I open my tired eyes to see Alex sitting over me, his face contoured in a confused expression, and I had to shake my head at him as a response. My throat was too dried out to even speak anymore. Alex grunts in disappointment before looking at my forsaken breakfast from this morning, and I almost couldn't help but feel bad for him; maybe he wasn't trying to poison me. Maybe I had jump too quickly at that assumption about him… but he killed a fourteen year old boy! What else could I possibly see him as except as a serial rapist and killer?

"Well," Alex growls with his piercing blue eyes shooting straight at me, "I pray you fucking enjoy Pop-Tarts."

Yes, you may laugh.

I had to grin (I couldn't help it!) at him and nod my head, outstretching my hands helplessly into the air as a sign for him to help me up. He sighs with a roll of his eyes before grabbing my wrists to haul me up, and despite my wobbly legs, I could still stand just fine. He lets go but still keeps an open palm near my lower back in case I fall over, and we both carefully travel upstairs to the kitchen so that he can prepare the mind-splitting complicated meal of placing the frozen Pop Tarts into a toaster.

Tonight, he even went as far as to prepare a warm glass of milk for me, and I chow down the late night dinner of Strawberry Pop-Tarts and heated milk while he watches me. We were sitting in the kitchen table, and I try to keep my eyes down on my hands, since I'm still shaken up by how horrible Alex treated me last night. I still can't forget at how he pretty much told me that I'm not his friend but entertainment, as a tool for future happiness.

Still, Alex wouldn't settle for silence. He clears his throat, "Well. I sure hope that you'll try and eat what I'm giving you downstairs, won't you Peter?"

I didn't respond. I just kept staring at my red jellied-and-crumbs hands instead.

I hear Alex snort and spoke in a low tone, "Whatever. I'll just have to force-feed you if you don't comply."

…

December 30th. 6 days until the Dove Café event.

Yesterday morning, Alex came downstairs in his full gang attire and tortured me mercilessly throughout the entire day. Yes, the _entire fucking day_, ladies and gentleman of the room! It started with him cracking a whip at me in order to get me out of the bed for the start of my torture. Then he demanded me to wash the entire concrete floors with a bucket of soap and water, and-get this-a fucking small toothbrush. The entire basement is a 700 square foot room, so that surely wasn't a fun deal for me. That was when I noticed that, aside from the wooden staircase that leads upstairs to the living room/kitchen, and the mini bar, the fridge and mini stove… I also found a wooden door that leads somewhere but couldn't even open the door. What could be there? Another hostage prisoner just like me? I shudder at the thought.

It took me a full three hours to clean up the floor with the toothbrush, and Alex was proud of me. Sort of. He then told me to scrub the concrete walls with the same toothbrush. I looked at him like he just killed someone in front of me, but he only smirked at me back. "After that, I'll give you a wonderful meal of more Pop-Tarts." He said before howling in laughter at my expression.

So for the next four hours and a half, I slaved away with washing and scrubbing the walls, stopping periodically to cry into my hands out of exhaustion and frustration. My stomach was literally shrieking in hunger, and I just wanted to drop dead by now. I was almost just about done with this assignment, but I could not stand being famished like this anymore-So, I wobble my way to the mini bar to get some more of that glass of milk. Miraculously, it is still there, glinting at me. I swing it up to my lips and drunk it all and I felt like shit as soon as I finished it. It's done and devoured, and now all of my hunger needs will be of Alex's concerns.

After I was done with the walls, I let my body drop and try to sleep. That only lasted about an hour before Alex found me and decided to whip the ever loving God out of me until I was all in red blisters. He tossed me a couple of Pop-Tarts and told me that that was my dinner. I was left there all alone again, and I munched carefully on my pathetic excuse of supper, before I fell asleep once more…

I woke up the next afternoon, to which it is today, and Alex did not come downstairs today. I suppose he is at work doing something quite intense in there. I walk upstairs and, surprise surprise, I could open the door to the living room and kitchen. I go in there, carefully and quietly of course, out of fear that Alex might be right there and try to pounce on me.

I open the fridge and of course, it is filled with all the wonderful food there, and I grabbed a handful of fruits, a couple of glass jars of moloko, pre-packaged slices of ham and cheese, a jar of black olives, and I grabbed some slices of bread. Of course, I would expect that Alex might notice the missing shit, but overall I took maybe one-fourth of what is in the fridge, so I kind of doubt it at the same time.

I go downstairs to place all of my stolen food into my own mini fridge, and I open a glass jar of moloko to down half of it. My stomach groans in satisfaction.

The rest of the day and evening, Alex hadn't come back from work, so I just entertained myself by trying to teach myself karate, something I was always curious about. I also entertained myself by having these mental battles between I and Alex, having to pretend that he's here to try and yell at me again, and I yelled at him back. I realize that I look downright insane, but I don't care.

When twilight came, I drown myself into my mattress before falling asleep once more, but not before I made myself a ham-and-cheese sandwich and down the last half of the glass jar of moloko.

…

December 31st. 5 days until the Dove Café event.

It is very bright and early in the morning, and I wake up in a sweaty mess, shaking and wanting to throw up. I'm sick, with a high fever and everything, and once Alex found me literally having a seizure from the fever, he quickly dragged my body across the basement floors to the mysterious door that I couldn't open the last time I came face-to-face with. He reaches into the pocket of his bathrobe to gather a small key, and he jams it into the doorknob before opening it. I shut my eyes close and he drags me again, and this time, I couldn't feel concrete anymore, but smooth marble floors. I snap my eyes open and look all around me; it's a holy motherfucking BATHROOM! I grunt as Alex hauls me up into this 1900's fashioned porcelain bathtub before turning on the shower head that looms over my head, and soon the cold water washes over me, making me gawk and scream a little in surprise.

"Fuck, its cold!" I screech, my arms folding over my head in defense, "Fuck!"

"It's just for the fever, Pete," I hear Alex dully reply, "Get with it. If not, you'll snuff it from the temperature of your illness. So sit still and let it cheest all over you, right right right?"

The icy cold water still pains me, but I manage to shakily nod my head as soon as I place my arms down, "Right right."

"I'll be right back. I'm ittying to go get you some materials so that you can shvat a bath. You're getting a malenky too grahzny for my liking, O my brother." He smirks at me before walking out of the bathroom. The fucking bathroom, readers, which I'm sitting right in the middle in. I scan the entire small room, and it has everything that a respectable bathroom should have; a 1900's fashioned faucet, a round mirror set above said faucet, this bathtub, and the walls are painted a soft eggshell tone. The floors are smooth, creamy colored marble material, and on one wall there is a towel holder with a white, fluffy towel big enough for me to enjoy.

Soon enough, Alex comes back with a packaged bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo, toothbrush with the appropriate toothpaste, a black comb and… surprise surprise… my old clothes back. Not the silky white bathrobe that reminds me of my father, readers, but the actual clothes that I last wore before Alex took me into hostage.

"Clean yourself up, Pete. I will expect you to come back to the living room upstairs for an extra surprise," Alex's face breaks out into an evil grin, "Do I make your Master & Leader clarity clear?"

I nod at him, "Right."

I wash my body until I am completely clean, and I wash my hair with the bottle of shampoo, combing the nasty knots out with the black comb. After everything is done and over with, I am surprised to see small, baby-blonde curls all around my hair, and looking at the label of the shampoo, it looks to be like one of those very nice and expensive hair products that only certain people can buy. People with money; people who aren't _me._

Well, I went back upstairs for this "extra surprise" that Alex told me about. That surprise, readers, was having Alex demand me to bend over the kitchen table as he whips at my back repeatedly for being a dirty, dirty little boy.

When will I die?

…

January 4th. Only one day away until Alex goes to that speed dating event.

The past few days were a blur of pain and misery. I don't even want to talk about them, so you'll have to forgive my reluctance. It is now evening of the day before the Dove Café event, and I sit on my mattress that now has the thin sheets and blankets back along with that bloody pillow to rest my head on. Luckily today, Alex treated me a little bit nicer; he even threw in normal breakfast, lunch, and supper, and now he told me to wait for dessert to arrive.

"It's not poisonous cake, is it?" I had to sneer at him as he fluffs the pillow for me, "I thought you didn't want me to die?"

He chuckles, "No. It will be blood pudding instead. _Bon Appétit!_"

I groan with my face all scrunched up in disgust, "Ugh, please don't. I'll do anything but eat that shit."

He laughs, "Fine fine, I'll go to the local bakery down the street to get us both something chocolate instead. You do like chocolate, right?"

"I love chocolate."

"Real horrorshow, then!"

I sit up as soon as I hear someone opening the door and closing it, and I can hear the person coming down the stairs down to the basement. I halt my breath, a part of me hoping that it's somebody else besides Alex that will come and save me, but I'm wrong. It is Alex, and he is carrying a small white box, the scent of chocolate fudge playing around the air around us.

"Pete, I know it's a malenky late for me to govoreet this, but," Alex sits down on the edge of the bed near me, "I haven't asked you on all the tips of attracting and keeping a zheena. Do you rassoodock if you can run me through them for tomorrow, please?"

"_Please?" _I had to chuckle and smirk at his frowning face, "I'm sorry, but I've never heard you use that word in all seriousness before. But hey, at least you already tackle down the first rule of etiquette; saying 'Please' and 'Thank you'. Ladies love that, you know."

"Do they now?" Alex mumbles to himself, rubbing his chin curiously, "Itty on, Pete, tell Uncle Alex some more."

"Only if I can perhaps have a _lomtick _of that delicious cake," I fashion a curt reply back with a devious smile.

He nods with a smirk before opening the white box up before placing a small, plastic knife in it to cut up a piece, "You may answer me now if you so wish to."

"Women enjoy being doted on. Not too much, of course, but just enough to make her feel good. They also enjoy confidence. You don't seem to have that much of an issue in that, so I needn't to say more on that. Let's see, what else… they do enjoy flowers. They also enjoy it when you listen to them talk. Pulling out their chairs and opening their doors are also great ways to look like a gentleman. And if a woman has an issue with you doing these things, they are probably not the one for you. It's really that simple."

"What about pol? You know, sex?"

"What about it?"

"When do you introduce that?"

"It shouldn't be planned. Let it happen naturally on its own. It's more natural and romantic that way."

Alex nods, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth, and I went on to explain more about the wonders of dating (That didn't involved casual sex one-nights) and women (that weren't complete nutcases) and that Alex listened to me. He hangs on to every single word that came out of my mouth to him, and I couldn't help but feel what hatred and anger I had against him slowly melting away from my conscious…

We had successfully devoured that cake, and now it was time for sleep. I got up from the bed after Alex left the basement to get ready for the big day tomorrow: The day that, hopefully, Alex gets to meet his soul mate and have me go free from this nightmare at long last.


	19. Chapter 19

_Hey everyone. Two more chapters to go and this fiction will finally be OVER! Thanks so much to you guys who have read and reviewed this fic. I couldn't have done it so without the help and support from you all here on _

_Without further notice, here's chapter 19!_

Chapter 19

The witching hours went by as fleetingly as the murky black waters would slip into the cracks of concrete. The dreams I had on this night were all nonsense, colors expanding like growing cancer cells in the front of my eyeballs, and the curious pitches of groaning inside the hollows of my head. But at least they weren't infested with humanistic spiders, or the mental images of that Alex that tries to obliterate me in any way he can. Or just about any other dreams that have me choking me into an everlasting horror show. Instead, I've been blessed of having just peacefully odd dreams, dreaming about nothing and how that nothingness soothes the absent child in me. I wake up to the sound of birds twittering outside of the small basement window, despite how faint they sounded, and it made me want to break out into a smile. But I couldn't, you see, because today is the day of the Dove Café event and I don't know how exactly it's going to be pulled off. Out of all of the twelve-or-thirteen days I've spent here, I had only one night of teaching that Alex about how to be all proper and well enough for a special young lady.

He's going to fuck up. I just know it. And if he catches someone's interest, then it'll be the end of this hostage nightmare for me, but they might find me estranged here all the same. They'll notice the purples and the blues and the blacks that scream against my wax like skin. They'll notice the bones in my body protruding out in all the strangest ways and even the rib cages from not eating enough. That Alex will have a stern talking to from the police, and then it's back to the s_tripy hole _for that man that looked like he just came out of an ancient sculpture of a Greek God. I sit up and the bed groans as I do, my fists inevitably rubbing my tired eyes. Now normally, the very thought of watching Alex suffer brought me a sense of justice and righteousness, but despite all that he's done I couldn't do that anymore. He's become a large part of me now; this time, readers, he became like some sort of extra limb or sword or life support for me to carry around, and without him, well, what am I really?

_Well then, you'll just be Peter Tarn, now would you?_

"I've missed you," I called out to nobody in particular with a certain bitterness in my voice, and for no particular reason my chapped lips sort of entices itself into a perfect smile, "I was going to call the conscious police to send out a missing person report."

_Humph! Clever. I don't suppose you'll want to move on after all of this is over?_

"What do you mean, exactly?"

_Well, Alex made that very clear to you that once he finds himself a little whore to play house with, that he'll set you free and he won't ever want to hear you or see you again._

"And I'm supposed to listen to him of all people?" I plop right down on the bed, and for the first time ever I realize that the ceilings above me had these entire vein like cracks in them, "Even if he finds who he's looking for… He won't up and forget about me that quickly."

_Ha. Don't flatter yourself, handsome. He will. He will and there's not a thing you can do about it._

And as if my conscious mind knew exactly what to say and when to say it, readers, the violent accent of an opening door arouses me to sit up straight on my low tariff excuse for a bed. All of these years spending so much of my precious time playing these games with Alex still never prepares me for what he's about to pull next. Every time I lay my gaze on him, it was like lifting the lid of Pandora's Box, and once you do the unthinkable it's damn near impossible to close it shut again. I hate myself everyday for even sharing a simple glance at him when were just children in school, as if that glance became the immortal curse that ruined every last detail of my life. If only I ignored that little blond kid who sat ever so impossibly still at every dark corners of the school while taking in the sight of all of us innocent children like a slithering predator hiding in the grass… I would have never ended up _here. _I would have never danced with the killing machines of the night or even let my tongue touch the drug-laced moloko plus. Things would have, and could have, been a whole lot different had I been a little more clever.

The dim room became acutely silent. Through my flaxen front bangs, I can see the alarming red glow of Alex's cigarette dangling on the side of his lip. My heart starts to beat quicker in its pace, because I don't quite like the color that I'm seeing at all. He may think that red is my color, but I can't say the same for him. He looks like the flawless replica of Satan, readers, and even his eyes had a peculiar tone of blood in them. His wavy hair, that hair that perfected his entire sinister profile, appeared even more windswept than last time. My eyes lower more, and I can spy the ridiculous casualness of his attire despite how villainous he looks right now. A simple black t-shirt, along with a very dark pair of boxers the color of a natural storm, and he looks like any other eighteen year old man if you never knew of the mortal sins he committed. He smirks and I tense up; he walks and I back down like a dog waiting to be beaten again.

When will this madness end?

"Please," I breathe with a wince as soon as my bare bony back meets with the concrete wall behind me, "I'm tired, Alex."

"Aw," he coos ever so lowly in his voice, bending his knees so that he can place both of them on the side of my bed, "My sweet, sladky little pet rabbit."

I wrap my slender arms around my very own knees, readers, and watch sharply as he slides his knees against my bed to travel into my personal space. He places his palms on his thighs and smirks at me even wilder than before, and my stomach drops down to my bowels. What is he going to do to me now? More torture of some sort? Something even worse than scrubbing the floors of this basement or flitting against my skin with his whip and cane? I shift in my seat with a mumble now, and he tilts his head curiously at me.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks as he mimics my position of wrapping his arms around his knees, and I look over to see his glinting blue eyes squinting at me. I scoff and thought to myself that it has to be the most underrated statement of the millennium for me. Because, you know, he didn't murder that fourteen year old child about a few nights ago. No, of course not, it was all of my imagination playing tricks on me. Speaking of which—

"The body, Alex. The body of that fourteen year old that you killed. What happened to it? Did the police say anything to you?"

"They eemyaed off the entire investigation and called it an attempted suicide. They called me last night after I scared you with my gun. Let's just say we got very lucky this time around, Pete."

"I suppose that's why you told me you started to like me again yesterday, huh?"

"Yes. I was in a very jolly mood that day, Peter Rabbit."

I flinch when he unrolls his arms from his knees and he flashes me a charming smile before letting himself fall down on the bed with a comforted sigh, and I still hold my defensive position while peering over my kneecaps at him staring up at the cracked ceilings above us. Yesterday when I took a bath to get rid of the filth and sickness and came to the kitchen, he had this tight black whip ready before flinging it at my arms and hands while laughing his head off. I don't know if it was a joke of some ominous definition, or if he's seriously just stupid like that. He called me a "Dirty dirty boy" before snapping the whip at my face, and well, that really wasn't the greatest idea ever. I started to cry and he apologized to me profusely… but in hidden mirth, I sort of smile behind my hands before shooting my knee right into his yarbles.

And yet despite that, here he is still talking to me. I suppose the meaning and value of friendship is different in his definition of that word than mine is. Because, of course, if he ever kicked me in the privates, I would have surely reconsider the entire friendship. You just can't touch me there. I hear Alex sigh and I also unwrap my arms from my knees to get myself more comfortable; I have a feeling that he's going to talk again.

"It's difficult for me to say this to you after we're all good and somewhat close again, Pete, but I was serious before about you and I not speaking to each other after I meet someone. I just don't know how I'm going to pull off trying to live a decent, normal life, and have a person from my darkest past coming around to remind me of all the things I've done. It's just too hard to bare, Pete."

It all just hurts me all the more when he has to explain it in further details, readers, and what's worse is that I'm about to beg him to think about it some more. Ignoring the prickle of the tears in my eyes, I assert with a quivering whimper, "You don't mean that, Alex. We've been through too much together."

He doesn't say anything at first, but then he adds, "I know. I knew you since I was a child. But that child is long gone and now he is ready to grow up. I hope you understand."

"I do, Alex," I snivel like a pathetic child myself, "I understand this perfectly. It still hurts. I still want us to be close friends. How could I ever live my life without you now? I have known you for way too long now to just up and forget you. Georgina is the best thing that has ever happened to me and you the worst… But I still can't let you go. Not after all that's happened. I hope _you_ understand!"

He sits up and glowers at me wrathfully, "Calm down, Pete. You knew someday it was going to happen."

"_Happen?_ What exactly _is happening here_, Alex?" I projected with the brightest burning emotions I could have ever flung out at him, "You took me for a ride that lasted for the entire eleven years of my young life. It all started when we were just children… I could still remember the chills you gave me the very first time I saw you being introduced by our teacher. Do you not remember? I told myself to stay away from you, but I was so drawn to you at the same time. I don't know if you remember, Alex, but every so often I come to look for you at recess to see if you were alright. I don't know what you did in those days, but I could never find you for some reason. My curiosity for you grew each year as we became older, Alex.

I became twelve and you were eleven when you knocked on my door on Halloween night for candy. My mother gave you mostly chocolates and you wouldn't even say "Thank you" or anything like that. You were walking alone that night grabbing all the candy that you could get your hands on. I knew this. I saw you from the kitchen that night and you know what? I **still** wanted to get to know you!"

Alex stares at me with this strange expression on his face, a mixture of surprise and slight flattery. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and thrusts it out in front of me, and I take it in between my fingers before inhaling it with much vigor. It had been a while since I've last smoked and the addiction is coming back in full fledge. I hold the smoke inside of my scrawny body for several seconds before letting the smoke pour out of my mouth like sinister vapor leaking straight from Hell. My eyes slip open and I find him sitting Cherokee style right in front of me now, eager to listen. I speak again.

"Despite my curiosity for you, I tried my best to live my life. We would have these little comments thrown at each other and I would keep them safe in my memory. You would say 'Good morning' to me on rare days and I would remember to smile back. My fourteenth birthday came around, and I wished for some _excitement_," I speak of that word with such sharpness that I made Alex flinch back a little bit, which is something very hard to do with a man like him.

"And excitement, Alex, I found…" I look into his aquamarine eyes now for a response. He looks back at me with the bluest eyes that I'll ever see in my life, and immediately I wanted to scream; the bluest eyes of my life will soon be gone and forever vanished from my dull, dull life.

"This is why I'm letting you go, Pete. I'm sorry."

I force out a cold laugh, almost wanting to strike him right in the face. When will this fucking idiot learn? Does he really think that marrying some random woman and having a son with her will take all of his darkness away? I almost want to kill him with my bare hands now; he wants to run away from his problems and proclaim that he's "growing up" to hide his fucking shame from the world. He couldn't be real with himself nor could he be honest with anybody else!

"Spare me the shit talk, Alex. I would have appreciated it more if you just finish me off and let me die in peace."

"Now you're just being a cunt again. This really isn't so simple, Pete, but life itties on. Lewdies move on. _I'm_ moving on and I was hoping that you would do the same too."

Growing physically and emotionally weak, I feel my teeth sinking down on my bottom lip before whispering, "But you're my best friend."

"_Was_ your best droog. Believe me, this hurts me too. But after this nochy is over, I'm letting you go and won't be viddying you again. We had a long run, Pete, but it's over. I'm sorry."

"You're not _sorry_," I sniffle, "You were never sorry. I'll still invade your personal life no matter what you say."

I can see him shaking his head gloomily at me now, "No, Pete. You won't because I won't let you. I'll make sure of it."

"I don't care. I'll still come around."

"You're not being mature here at all, brother."

"Maturity, my arse. I'm still coming around."

"You're not making this any easy, Pete. Stop this at once!"

"_I'll still come around!"_ I bitterly wail at him before flinging a pillow at him again. In a raging split second of eruption, I throw myself at him and start to fight him once more as if I have never learned to not pull this shit on Alex. But here I am, readers, and with blinding tears in my eyes, my fists was flying everywhere and hitting his head again and again. He protects his head with his arms, so it really wasn't as bad as the other day, but it is still a pretty violent combat between us two.

After a few minutes of Alex trying to protect his face from my furious fists, he manages to grab my wrists and overpower me back to the floor, sitting right on my stomach as I struggle to get out. "Pete, calm down!" he growls, looking a bit taken back by my dark expression, "You knew it would come down to this. Nothing lasts forever!"

"That's what pessimistic fucks tell themselves to feel better. But I'm not you," I screech back with a horrible tremble, "So I'll still come around, Alex, whether you like it or not!"

The rest of the day moved on painfully slow. After that much heated battle between Alex and me, we went our separate ways and I was still locked in the desolate basement. I decided to take a shower to try and cool off, but something in my gut knew that it's not going to work this time. I knew that today might just be the last day that I'll ever see Alex again. I wanted to vomit it in the toilet but nothing would come out, and I just wanted to destroy everything in sight. Everybody knows just how calm I am on the outside but they never knew the kind of fire that burns deep inside of me.

Our friendship is over. I know this but I couldn't accept it in my mind yet. How is it that he can just let me go as if I'm some candy wrapper instead of a lifelong friend _just_ like that? How can he just tell me to get out of his life after all this time of dragging me around town with Georgie and Dim, and giving me hell for being happy with Georgina? What about all of those gang days and those times where we showed our brotherhood to each other? Do they suddenly not matter to Alex anymore? Did I ever matter to him? I turn the faucet to turn off the showerhead during these thoughts.

Maybe he just needs more time, I think. Maybe I just need to show him just how much his friendship matters to me and how much we need each other. I am not giving up. I don't care about the past pain he gave me; he made me feel _alive. _He gave me _excitement. _He gave me something to live for, something to be thankful for all the good things in my life that I've taken advantage of, like my dear old mum and my poor Georgina who is probably crying over my absence once more.

I come out of the bathroom wearing the same clothes on the night Alex kidnapped me; a Classic Blue stripe business shirt, black slacks, and brown Oxford shoes. I could have had my brown bomber jacket but I suppose Alex is keeping that in the upstairs closet for now. On my head rests Alex's bowler hat that he gave me this past Christmas day, and from there it made me look like a downright pseudo-intellectual and all that shit. I look around at the basement one last time before taking in a deep sigh; it'll be the last time I'm going to see this place. On one hand, I'm happy to be out of this dire situation. On the other hand, I'd rather take the bad with the good if it means getting to keep Alex as my best friend.

I drink the rest of the half full moloko from the fridge before I hear the door swinging open and close again. I place my pointy elbows on top of the mini bar and my eyes rest upon the taller blond figure that slithers into my personal purgatory. He takes one full look at me up and down and mumbles, "Hello."

He's wearing a simple black v neck sweater with nothing underneath it and a pair of Levi's faded denim jeans. A pair of white cotton socks occupies his feet, but soon shoes will also be of company before going on his big date. His hair has been combed but still has that infamous wavy-messy look to it that is entirely his own sense of style. He smells subtly of cologne and aftershave.

"Hey," I mumble right back, suddenly feeling really shy in front of him. I suppose I still cannot help my absolute awe and astonishment to his physical being even to this day. Now I know why women like him so much. I could feel his piercing cerulean eyes on me, ripping and tearing my confidence into pieces.

He had to smirk and say, "Come come come now, Pete. We can still, how those kids say now, _chill_ together until I itty out to the Dove Café. What govoreets you, bratty? What do you want to do for the next couple of hours?"

I shrug with one of my shoulder trying to avoid his gaze and look at his stomach instead, "No idea."

"Do you want to watch a sinny with me?"

"A _what?_"

"A movie, I mean. I have a few tapes lying around the domy. I messel maybe you would like to watch one with me."

I didn't answer him nor did I move an absolute inch, out of fear that if I do, that I will help turn the wheel of fate of Alex leaving me behind once he starts his brand new life. Something inside of me twists and turns with so much emotions vibrating in me right now; is this his way of saying good-bye? A stupid movie to cap off our decade long saga between us despite all that's been said and done? Why couldn't he at least, I don't know, maybe take us both out to a long walk to talk things through? Or maybe just lounge around the house to talk about it? Why does he want to spend the next two hours, and finals hours at that, watching some stupid movie with me? Why? Why can't he—

"Pete?"

My eyes widen when I realize that Alex is right there with me and he has place his open palm on my shoulder now. My gaze elevates up to see his confused and even concerned (Concerned, readers.) expression on his pallid face. Had I been gone already for too long?

I gape at him for a little while, but I knew I had to say something. "It's nothing," I finally manage to whisper, my eyes lowering down to the sight of his throat, "A movie sounds nice, actually."

His hand still rests on my shoulder, and I don't know if I want to roll my shoulder away from his grasp or just leave it there. It might be the very last time he'll ever touch me. This God of destruction, this God of hell and heaven and all of that biblical nonsense, this God of suffering and setting the world ablaze with his recklessness… I'll never be able to be on his side to watch him become the center of the planet ever again. Despite his arrogance, his psychopathic nature, his callousness and his wickedness, I know that deep down, he is just a lonely little child who wanted to love and be loved.

It could have been me. I could have been the life partner he begged me to become before. We could have been the best friends that we could have been if I wasn't so stubborn with him. I could have lived here for the rest of my days and have all of the fun in the world with Alex and his brilliant mind. In fact I might have even tried to seek out a cure for his madness so that he can finally find peace in himself. We would have been a great team member for each other. But he needs his family just as much as I need mine. He will have a son just like I will have my own son. And just like that, readers, I almost accepted the truth for what it was;

It is time to move on.

The movie ends and so did our friendship. As the credits roll on the television screen, Alex and I just sat there on the couch staring at nothing. In the buzzing silence, I wanted to break down but I believe I have done that far too many times before. What is the point in doing that anymore? It didn't solve anything. I still can't help but feel fucking awful, though.

"Will you write to me?" I manage to whisper, even surprising myself at asking such a question.

"Write to you?"

"Yes. Will I ever at least hear from you again?"

"You know I can't, Pete. You know that."

"I could hide the letters," I suddenly feel desperate now, turning my eyes towards him now and lean close to him while he gapes at me in surprise, "I wouldn't let Georgina or your wife know. We can still be there for each other."

"Pete, I… Why are you so adamant about this?"

"Because you're my brother," I whisper, placing a hand on his arm now, "Because you're my friend. Because you took so much from me and now I need you as much as you need me. We are a team, Alex. We did things that the world would hate us for, but I know you. And you know me. Nobody can take that away from us."

"Ugh, you're such a sap, I swear," Alex cuttingly groans as he grabs my wrist and throws it out into the air along with, well, my ego and all of that as well, "Get over yourself, Pete. It's done and over with in this friendship and you need to stop talking about it."

_It's done and over with._

I couldn't believe what I'm hearing. Or even seeing for that matter; I watch in horror as he turns away from me and looks down on the floor with the hardest gaze I've ever witnessed from him. His electric blue eyes are literally glowing with rage right now, and I almost wanted to reach out to touch his shoulder again. But I know I can't. I know that this is it: The ending of Alex and I and all of our legends together.

"I… I understand, Alex," I mumble underneath my breath. I don't know if maybe it's just me and my desperation, but I can almost _feel _his eyes on me again, perhaps out of pity now for how he's treating me this time. I shudder, trying to keep my eyes hidden from him as I stand up from the couch. The television now shows a bright blue screen.

I stand there for a while, not moving or saying a thing. I can feel my back flare up a hole when I feel Alex's hot-white stare, but I let it hurt me. What else is there between us two brothers anymore? Now we're just perfect strangers with an odd story together.

I turn and walk heavily back to the basement door, the evening sun dipping through the window shades and creating a sublime scenery to this otherwise pale colored house. I still don't say a thing and neither did Alex, and I turn the door knob so that I can go back downstairs so that I can prepare myself a snack and take a nap.

I pull the door towards me and then it slams back in with a powerful bang. I jump a little in shock, however I don't dare to turn around to see who could have closed it, because I already knew the answer. Alex dips in towards me to whisper into my ear, and I keep everything bottled in as he does so, _"When I get back, I'm throwing you out and you go back to Georgina. Understood?"_

I made the bed and ate all of what's left in the mini fridge. I take off my shoes (Why I even put them on earlier today is still beyond me…) and plop down on my bed to take a much needed nap. It lasted around an hour or so, and as always I dreamt of nothing. My eyes flutter open to see nothing but darkness, and I think back on Georgina; how is she doing? How will she react to my absence and return again? Will she even accept me back? Will I have to go back to living with my mother again? Has she met someone already or even worse, cheated on me this entire time?

I contemplated to go into these questions all on my own, readers, but the sound of the door opening and shutting made me stay completely silent instead. The weak lights flicker on and it gave the basement a mild yellow glow to it, and I can feel somebody coming close to the bed and then sit right next to me as my back is turned towards them. I make sure to close my eyes and pretend that I am asleep, and I hear that person sighing a little before whispering, "I met someone, Pete."

Whoop-de-fucking-doo.

"She's gorgeous. You should've seen her, brother. She had this healthy head of auburn hair, and the prettiest green eyes you would ever know. She's in shape and very very young. She even has her own money and car. She just turned eighteen and is looking for a husband just like I am looking for a wife. She has a knack for Lovely Lovely Ludwig Van, even! Imagine that!"

I say nothing or even move. I am asleep, remember?

"She dreams of opening her own floral shop and have a son. She's just all around amazing and I want to marry her. We have an incredible bond together. I'm having the shivers just thinking about her."

I'm not going to lie, but I did felt a little smile teasing my lips as I hear him gush about this girl. He seems so incredibly defenseless right now, it's almost sweet.

"Oh Pete. She's just everything I've been looking for and more. There's so much I could tell you about her, but… I do want to focus on you right now. I want to maybe apologize for being so harsh with you. I know how much you appreciate our friendship, Pete. You will always be my Peter Rabbit after all. I don't know what the future will hold, but… Perhaps, maybe, I might be alright with us spending some time together every once in a while."

My stomach drops; was that a legitimate offer?

"But for now, Pete, I think its best we keep ourselves away from each other. Just for a little while, that's all. Just so that Georgina can move on from you being away from her, and you settling down with a child of your own, and you know… I just want you to live your life. You did it before as a child and no doubt you can do that right now as an adult."

I still don't move, but inside, everything loosened up and I feel so much relief right now. I thought he was never going to speak to me again and that I would lose this long friendship for good. But alas, Alex might have thought things through and realize that I have become a part of him just like he's become a part of me; a deadly duo who are capable of building and destroying everything at the same time. He may have raped women before, and he may have been ultra-violent on innocent people before, just like I have when I was high on drencroms… But to each other, we were just suffering children reaching out for something so much more than what this society could readily provide for us.

We were looking for _life. _And we found it through each other.

"Well, no doubt you're still asleep, my little brother. So I'll leave you alone to rest. Just realize that by tomorrow morning, I'm going to ease you down the road. I'll write to you someday, Pete. Just wait for me."

I will Alex, I almost said to him. I'll wait for as long as I can.

I'll wait.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_I can remember the way we barged into their house like that. I can remember the high pitch screeches from the redheaded vixen and the eyes that popped out of this old man's skull when he saw us jumping right into his home. I can remember the way Alex commanded me to check the entire house and how the first thing I checked was the bathroom and then everywhere else. I can even remember the way everything looked from the upper platform of the living room, the way Dim was holding that redhead while Alex pushed himself inside of her. How much it hurt her. How much it hurt me._

_After all of that was over and done with, I remember us running back outside from the house to go back to that Durango piece of shit that we stole right after beating up Billyboy and his friends. I can still remember how Dim and Georgie hopped on to the back of the car and how before I took one more step, how Alex grabbed at my shoulders and looked at me dead in the eyes. I remember. I remember the way he looked right at me with the most insane eyes I've ever seen in my entire short life; they almost looked like fake glass eyes that are way too bloodshot to be considered normal. I can still remember his short, steady breaths._

_The entire place was dark and completely indistinct, so Georgie and Dim couldn't see us just like how I couldn't even make out their faces anymore. The wind was cold but I didn't felt it. I was enraptured by his icy blue eyes and silvery white teeth. He leaned in ever so uncomfortably close, so slowly that I thought it might have been the drencroms that's slowing my sense of time. He finally had his lips close to my ear and in that moment, that moment when Georgie and Dim was fucking around with the car like a bunch of idiots, Alex whispered in a cutting hiss that still hurts me today._

"_Should have fucked her."_

_That was exactly the sentence that kept ramming into my ears and into my memories. What really stood out to me when he whispered that to me, readers, is how he structured that sentence; the all evil and conniving Alex Delarge would have said to me, "Should have engaged in the old in-out, in-out with her." But he didn't. He didn't say that in that lovely Nadsat language, but in just plain dumb-down English. That irks me, really. But it still repeats in my head, brothers; Long after we pulled away from the huge house that we just broke in, long after Alex drove us all back to the Korova Milkbar, and long after we arrived to the bar all sleepy and yawning here and there. Should have fucked her. I should have fucked her, yes. But I didn't. I couldn't. And that Alex knew it so._

_Whenever Alex has sex, consensual or otherwise, he made sure to rub it in my face in the most subtle of ways. How much pleasure he received from her mouth, or how hard he rammed her in his bed. I have not yet had sex myself, so these stories telling tactics by him was so cruel that it made me want to bang my head against something. How he could have this so freely while I couldn't even muster the courage to say 'Hello' to an attractive woman._

_But then, that is Alex. And this is me, Peter Tarn. That's how it's going to be, then._

"_Oh Pete," Alex purrs while nudging his boot against my own while the other two hooligans were out messing around with the club girls tonight, "You should have viddied her. All sweaty and practically begging me to come in her. I could viddy it in her glazzies, droog. She was so tight and so very very molodoy."_

"_I saw."_

"_But you should have viddied us up close," Alex murmurs as he drunkenly bumps his head against my temple ever so softly, "I bet slooshying her moan against the ball gag would have made you want to itty after her too. I would have like pushed that Dim the dim away and like..."_

_He takes that sharp breath that I hate so much. I wanted to shake in disgust but decided against it._

_"Spin that sladky malenky bitch around like a live spinning top from the almighty Heavens, so that I can enter her from behind. I'd have us on the couch lying all out so that you can climb over her and shvat your chances, Pete. I could have let you, you know. Imagine the amount of pleasure having two chellovecks ittying at her all hard and horrorshow."_

_Ugh._

"_You should stop reading those porno magazines, brother," I mumble, "They make you perverted."_

_Alex chuckles as the music in the milkbar twangs in and out with a different song, "Maybe so. But you keep coming around, Pete. Admit it. You like it when I'm like this. All grahzny and merzky and very very ultra-violent. Something about me entices you."_

_My eyes slip open and I'm back to my bedroom at home. Perhaps Alex is right; something about him keeps me around. Something about Alex keeps my mouth shut around the rozzes and the likes. Something about Alex gives me that tingle in my spine when I see him inflict pain and suffrage on others. I twist and turn in my sleep, trying to forget that redheaded devotchka and the way Alex was leering at me playfully in the milkbar, but alas I couldn't._

…

_THUNK THUNK THUNK!_

I almost choke in my sleep, prompting me to awake suddenly with a fright. The loud banging noise continues on, and I sit up on the mattress to look up at the small basement window. Something, or somebody rather, is banging against the window, and it is sounding more and more urgent. My breathing becomes shallow and I start to feel the cold sweat all over me now; has someone found me? Am I about to be saved in some way? Even though Alex told me that I would be gone first thing today, at least I am able to be served with sweet justice after all the terrible things he's put me through. He's my friend, but I can't forgive him for the pain he's given me…

Oh God!

I nearly trampled and tripped over myself when I got off from the mattress and hurry my way to the window, and through the sunshine, dust, and some flakes of snow, I could see a pair of baby blues staring back at me. Georgina starts to break down once she sees me from the other side.

"Pete!" I can hear her cry out, muffled by the glass window nudged between us. I look down a bit to see this knob sticking out, and I immediately wrap my hand around it to shake it around. I realize you have to push it out to open, so I did just that. Georgina's hand goes right under the window and grabs a hold of my hand, and I can hear her cries even clearer now.

"Pete! What are you doing here?"

I almost couldn't respond. I'm so in shock at how this is all starting to end. Now Georgina knows exactly what's going; now she knows exactly what Alex is capable of. Now she knows why I've been gone. Yet despite everything, here she wants to save me and keep me happy once more.

God, I love this woman.

"A-Alex," I whisper, visibly shaking, "He's going to find you if you don't go away, Georgina."

"I don't care," She hiccups all the while sobbing, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so mad at you. I miss you. I'm going to go get you some help."

"He was going to—"

"_What?"_

"I s-said," I hiccup as well, "He's going to set me free today, Georgina. Alex, I mean."

She looks at me with the widest, wettest eyes I've ever seen her in. A chilling air swoops in under the window before blowing onto my face, and I sigh. She tightens her grip on my hand, and her scarlet hair starts to drape over her face as she shakes her head at me.

"I'm going to call the police. I don't care about what he says or does… You deserve to see him suffer, Pete. Look at what he's done to you!"

In a burst of self realization, I look over my shoulder to take the sight of the horrid living conditions that I've been put through for the past two weeks. Gray walls with cold, cold floors. A dirty mattress thrown on the floor. A pathetic excuse for a kitchen. I suppose she is right, readers. I can remember the way Alex physically and psychologically batters me for his own pure amusement. I can remember his cold, dead eyes on the night he killed that fourteen year old child. Maybe Georgina is right. No, she really is right! Maybe he does deserve to suffer. The Ludovico Treatment didn't help him; but I know something else that can.

And that, my friend, was a stern talking to from the police. I look at Georgina with a small smile, "You wouldn't know Georgie and Dim, would you?"


	21. Chapter 21

_Decided to revise the 21__st__ chapter. Unfortunately this would mean I have more to write and it won't end here. Hope you enjoy this, never the less! - letitbexo_

Chapter 12

Georgina has now left me alone in that wretched basement once more, the smell of the running old water swirled with the pungent perfume of my vomit reaches to my senses, and so my eyes rolls back. How impudent am I to let Georgina see me retch all over the floor before she fled the scene. She told me to hold on tight so that she can find help for me, and my eyes water from either my sickness or her eternal love for me. Or perhaps, in my own vanity, a mixture of both. I see a blur of dark and maroon before I let these eyes fall back on my surroundings, and I am introduced to the cold air again. I thought for a moment, I could hear a flicker, or like a shooting pebble skipping across the floor, but alas it was just my mind throwing me in a loop of its own mockery and mischief. I open my mouth and shut them tight again, lunging myself towards the eat in kitchen to see if I can have myself a refreshing drink of moloko minus. My hand became a flurry as I quickly open the cabinet door to retrieve the bottle, and the milk glints a porcelain rage against the darkness. I gulp in hunger and reach for it.

The top comes off and the glass edge meets my lips, to which my throat opens up with a rush of cool white liquid that makes me sigh in carnal satisfaction. _Sweet Fucking Mary. _My insides cool down and I can properly breathe again like a plant after the summer heat hides behind the clouds. I leave the empty bottle somewhere around me before jumping up to my feet; all I had to do now was play the waiting game. Perhaps if I am patient and quiet enough, I can have the riveting opportunity to hear Georgie and Dim beating down the door before doing the same to Alex boy. The corners of my mouth pull back and I chuckle.

Let the games begin.

I look over my slender shoulder and see through my sweaty bangs the small basement window that I had just left behind after speaking with Georgina. The basement let in a needle of white light, as if presenting itself as a sign of hope and vitality ahead of me. In the light, I can see specks of dust dancing around, and my mind flashes back when I was a little boy in the olden days of youth. When I was bored and full of stubborn energy, I would sit very quietly near the windows of mama's house, my eyes focused on those specks of dust as they fall gracefully around in the sunlight. My mind was much too young and curious to understand why I'm seeing what I was seeing, but it was the only thing that somehow made sense to me after I was faced with my father's toiling death. I was a child without any friends, you see, and from that day, the quiet subtlety of science and atoms became what was left of my lonesome childhood.

I let my weak body fall on the darkened bed, focusing on the cracks on the ceiling above me, perking my ears up for the upcoming violent event. There is a light coating of sweat covering my pale flesh, and my stomach flutters with much excitement. I wonder how long this would take, I muse to myself. Georgina has some impressive set of long legs that should carry her pretty self down to the police station in less than a half hour's time, and her equally fast lips painted in fierce vermillion should catch Georgie's and Dim's attention even quicker than her runner's pace. With all of this, give or take, I should be hearing something in about fifteen minutes from now. More or less, give or take. My old girl knows what she's doing.

As I said before, readers; let the games begin!

My mind slips back to those half-forgotten atoms and science basking in the needle of light, and after seconds of hearing a humming silence drumming inside my ears, a shadow forms inside my mind. The flurry of dust specks fall down gracefully like snowflakes or like rose petals on a shining Valentines morning into a lover's bed, and the form takes shape of a young blond man. He is crouched over in an upright fetal position, his arms wrapped around his knees and his head on top of them. His hair was sandy in tone, glittering by the needle of light. The light, a shade of bone once it meets his flesh, reveals me a sad looking Alex looking up at me. The blood on his face, screaming against his alabaster skin and electric blue eyes, coats the edges of his hair and drips down from his pointy chin, and for a moment I thought I heard him hum at me. He became a work of art, to me, to the world that shall soon find out about his heinous crime, and then as quick as light, he became my arch nemesis.

In time, my eyes flash open just when I hear the door banging upstairs.

I hear the footsteps of Alex slouching against the floor right above me, and I stare at the cracked ceilings, my eyes following to the sounds of him walking away towards the front door, trying to ignore my beating heart. I lie perfectly still and catch my breath, the sound of the front door swinging open and some murmurs that follow became more and more loud and violent in its beats and tones. Then, I flinch as I hear thunderous footsteps marching in, a crashing lamp exploding upstairs and a heavy laughter that sounded like a gorilla. And now it's my turn to shake like a coward, dear readers. _They're here._

Still, I wait. I wanted to hear what would happen next. The footsteps continued on, there were sounds of people screaming at each other, and then I hear a dull thump right above me. Somebody must have fallen, and I'm assuming its Alex. Did they just hit him with something? I can imagine his blood drenched profile again, holding his wound like a sensitive child after getting into an accident. I hear some more murmurs, but it was a heavy voice this time, and I frown confusingly as I hear yet another dull thump followed by a hefty cry ahead of me. Two people have fallen? Who could they be? Alex and Georgie, or Alex and Dim? Who's hitting who? I hear the footsteps walking around again, and I bite my cracked lip in anticipation. Then, in a split second, I hear the footsteps running overhead and I let my chin point upwards towards the ceiling and my eyes traveling almost to the back of my skull to follow the person running at the back of the house. I hear the back door opening and closing, and then, silence.

… Can I move again? I furrow my sweaty brows together before gingerly sitting up and trying to piece together as to what might have happened just now. Two thumps means two have fallen, and only one of them may have been the one who knocked them out unconscious. I scrunch my face in painfully, my head throbbing for some reason. I blame the hunger, and the lack of proper lighting. Mostly hunger. I groan, the sound trembling in my guts and bowel, and I think back to the upstairs mania. Two thumps, two fallen soldiers. One survived, and he for some reason ran to the back door…

… Running away from whom? Running from—

I snap my eyes open in violent realization and I shoot myself off the bed and ran up the wooden stairs towards the door; _no no no no no no! It can't be! It just cannot be! _I open the door and the light blinds me, but something else did too. _Red._ Violent, bright shades of red all over the two fallen soldiers. My eyes readjusts to the light of the room and I find myself disconnected from all the outside noises, all of my thoughts, my feelings, the scent of last night's oriental takeouts, everything. My senses have all but shut down. Georgie was lying on the floor with his temple split open, blood seeping out and leaving a trail all over his face and on the floor. Dim was sitting upright against a wall and his nose and lip was too busted open, his fingers bruised and his head surrounding by a splash of blood. It looks like he got hit on the head as well. Everything was too quiet now, too sudden and intense. For a second I thought they would both open their eyes and say their greetings, but they became what I remembered them being like in our gang days; just two dolls following Alex, without any input, any opinion or objection to his superior. My eyes roll to the side towards the back door, and the door was still left open, a blood trail leading the way.

Alex has managed to escape.


	22. The End

The End

It took a while, but I found him. At the same time, I didn't really found him either. It's difficult to try and explain to you as to what I found when I finally caught up to him, but… You made it this far, and thus you deserve the grand ending to this story. Well, that, I can give. Maybe it'll help me get over the entire situation. And the nightmares that began after.

After I followed the blood trail, it began to lose its vibrancy and I feared that I might have lost him. But I didn't want to give up. I didn't want to forget and forgive or any of that shit. I had to find him. I had to confront him, and ask him why, of all people, he chose me to become a clog to his clockwork orange. He had raped and he had killed, but it would never touch the horrors that he showed me. He wanted me to become just like him; cold, and dead… without remorse or a conscious to follow. He wanted the world to burn in front of him and relishes the sweet music of screaming and the scent of burning flesh. He wanted to give us all Hell, and Hell he did given us.

Unfortunately, I foiled all of his plans.

As I ran, my mind disconnected. The world became a blur of white, either from the snow or just from my own dissociative state. There was no sound. No color, or movement, or anything. All I could feel was the numbness creeping up my legs as I ran to the forest that Alex stashed the fifteen year old gang member that tried to rob us. He had to be there. He had to be at the one place where nobody would find him. A part of me was confused; the other part of me started to tremble in fear. Alex told me something in the past that made me put two and two together and now I'm really losing it. He was going to get caught. He knew this and that's why he went to the forest. Georgina knows, Dim and Georgie knows, and now everybody in the whole world knows. If he got caught now, his life as Alex DeLarge as he knows it would be the end. He would be stuck in a concrete place with bars and no hope for a better future. He was caught before, but he got lucky. This time, he knew he won't be so blessed. To hell with it all, he may have said to himself.

When I found him, I didn't screamed. I did not know why I never managed to once I found him. Most people would have regret finding someone this way; I for one, don't. Even if it was horrendous in fashion, it became the medicine I needed to suck the poison out from my life. A life of violence, a life of fear and rape, a life that nobody should have if they even have an ounce of human empathy; a life of imprisonment and everlasting Hell. I suppose, the hard life caught up to that Alex. You're getting antsy to know what happened to him, huh? What became of that Alex, that Alex who gave us a horror show of his mind? Well, I found him leaning against a tree with the top of his head blown through. Yep. That gun that he had threatened me with turned itself around and took his precious life instead. The brain matters, the sprinkles of his skull, and the blood have decorated the pure white snow around him, his eyes wide and dull and it looked like he was crying blood from it all. The rest of this body just laid there peacefully, still glowing and alive, in a weird way. Like I said… I didn't scream. There was no reason to; everything made sense to me now. Alex knew this would be the end of everything and, like he had tried to before, went on to commit suicide. This time, death had won. A funny little chuckle erupts from me and suddenly I turned around, like I found a clown in the closet rather than your childhood friend with his head blown up from his own shiny gun.

I don't know what I did after that. All I knew was, a few minutes after finding him, I was finding myself walking on the street. This kept going for I don't know how long, but the dissociative state protected me. Maybe it'll hit me like a train later, but now, I feel comfortably empty. Soon the headlights of Georgina's car stopped me and she ran towards me, wrapping her arms around me and started to cry on me, though I cannot exactly remember what she said. The car ride home was a long one, and again, I was comfortably numb through it all. That silly little Alex and his games! I heard someone chuckling like a small child and Georgina looked at me with fear in her eyes. I looked all around her car and realized that it was I who had chuckled. Supposedly I lost my head, too.

**"TOWN'S HORROR KILLS HIMSELF: HOW THE CLOCKWORK ORANGE CAME TO AN END"** the newspapers said today. I had a peculiarly well sleep last night. I dreamt of nothing but dust matters, all floating peacefully around me. Georgina is taking care of me as she always did, taking care of my wounds and fever, and I still felt _comfortably numb. _I wonder when it'll all come back to me, readers. I wonder if I'll realize that yes, I found Alex DeLarge, dead in the forest? When will I start crying, or scream in horror? When will I become depressed and remorseful for not catching up to him fast enough? Could I have had saved him? Could I have had stopped him from placing the gun in his mouth? Him pulling the trigger and ending it all? Could it have been me who became the hero of this story?

No.

Instead, his death changed me. That Alex was smart. Maybe I am wrong to say what I'm about to say, but in the moment he outsmarted Georgie and Dim and realized that he was going to prison for life, he realized that he had to do something. He had to teach me the final lesson of becoming another monster in society. He taught me how to rape, how to beat others, how to rob others for money, and how to take drugs. Now he's going to teach me the most important lesson of it all… How to enjoy it all through my heart's content. He had to desensitize me. He had to show me what the real world was about outside of these walls. That Alex was really smart because the old boy Pete wouldn't come back. I find myself alone in this world now, chuckling and like giggling with madness. I am the madness, just like Alex used to be the madness. Despite Georgina putting me through therapy, despite Georgina trying to give me medication for the way I have been acting, nothing had worked; not even the people who came by to try and talk to me about my hostage episode. Not even my other old friends who tried to "shake me out of it" wouldn't help me either. I would just smile crookedly at them and not say a word.

His bloody eyes became the way of my life. I wake up every day feeling nothing towards life anymore. I go through the motions of life, but I don't realize what's happening. Georgina asked me what I saw, and I told her I saw his blood and that shut her up. She kept working and I was kept still at home, staring at nothing, thinking about nothing but his redden eyes. Maybe one day, I'll wake up. Maybe one day, I'll realize what I saw and I'll become guilty for all I have done. I could have helped him. But life, readers, always had other plans. Sometimes, you see, life has plans that would never feel right no matter how you tried to slice it. I lean down to reach for the knife and saw my own reflection through it, my eyes now cloudy for a reason that only my best friend knew…

Alex's story hasn't ended through him. I'm going to be the one who will continue his legacy... and this knife is going to help me.

_FIN_


	23. Letter from Author

Some people might have felt a little bit stunned from what they just read. Some of you are probably devastated with the way Pete is acting now that he found his best friend dead. In the end, this is how it went: Alex killed himself and Pete found him. That somehow ripped his humanity to shreds and now he can't get into empathy anymore like he used to. That Alex abused him and finally showed him something that nobody shouldn't deserve to see: Violence and death at it's terrible core. Whether Alex's psychopathy was from nature or nurture, Pete's new psychopathy is from nurture. The gang life, him seeing the raping, the hostage and the daily abuse, the violent scene of both the fifteen year old gang thief, the head bludgeoning of Georgie and Dim, and finally Alex's suicide made him snap. As to whether or not he'll "wake up" from it all, consider the hidden message of his dream after finding Alex: The dust matters. It resembles Alex's skull dust, something that can never be put back together. What's done is done, in other words. The dust represents Pete's new way of life now, forever falling and never becoming a human being again.

Thank you so much for the support. :) It was a fun story to write, overall, and you all had pushed me enough to reach towards the end. Until then...

-letitbexo


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